


Heat Waves

by Ectobruisebosom



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Human AU, M/M, More characters than tagged, Southern Gothic AU, more tags incoming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ectobruisebosom/pseuds/Ectobruisebosom
Summary: Markus is looking for someone, but he finds more than he bargained for.But they're not going to let him go, not until it's all over.
Relationships: Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. 01

It was just another town to Markus. The roads were badly degraded with crumbled cobblestones, split roads, and potholes deep enough to knock him about and make him feel the urge to apologize to his motorcycle as he rolled slowly through; a speed he maintained less due to the speed limit and more to keep himself safe. His helmet deflected the rolling dust but did nothing for the heat, sweat starting to collect within and add a slight gloss to his dark skin. Mismatched eyes looked around, peering at the decayed buildings, the rotted wood amongst the refurbishments and cover-ups of the past, the crumbled brick exposing shattered innards and wooded inlets. But there was still life in the cracks too, a town built up with flowers peeking through concrete slits, grass grown through wood slat flooring, ivy creeping up walls; the earth was taking back her land. It wasn't all overgrown though, the deeper he got into the town, closer to the heart. Disrepair turned into something that was mildly convincing as a building, a house, and then there were stores and homes and a church. As he rode past, he gazed up at the crucifix towering above the cluster of structures, like a watchful guardian or a prying eye. 

The streets held a few people here and there, and there were papers plastered on telephone poles, on stop light poles, on the control box. Markus couldn't see what they showed, only that there were pictures of people on them, one person per page. Slowing to a stop to wait for a light, he leaned and squinted to see if he could read anything from there, pulling out his phone and zooming in with the camera to see if it would focus on it. He could dimly see a blonde coming into focus, a slight scowl on his face, but before he could really get any of the words to focus, a horn sounded from behind him, startling him enough to drop his phone. Scrambling to catch it, he tossed it between his hands before hurriedly stuffing it into his pocket, looking up at the green light and rolling off, feeling his cheeks grow hot. 

Pulling over as soon as he could into a small public lot, he nudged the kickstand down and cut the purring engine, swinging his leg to dismount from his trusty steed. Lifting his visor and squinting at the heat radiating into his helmet, he glanced down and retrieved his phone from his pocket, hissing softly as he looked over the dirtied screen. Unlocking it, he studied the picture he accidentally took. It was blurred and useless, so he deleted it, instead pulling up the messages he'd exchanged with one of the people who lived in the town, some distant family member of his biologically,. He scrolled through their messages before he sent one out to them.

_I'm at a public lot. Where should I meet you?_

It couldn't have been more than a few moments after he sent the text when he heard another _beep beep_ that led to him jumping and slapping his phone between his hands, catching it once more. He dropped his head in embarrassment, pushing the device into his pocket again as he resolved to never look at it for more than a moment in this horn-happy town. He looked back as a black civic rolled up beside him, the window sliding down to reveal another boy there--two boys actually, one whom Markus assumed was his cousin and the other a blond who reminded him slightly of a rabbit. 

"Hey," the driver greeted. "Sorry I almost made you drop your phone. I'm Josh." Dammit, he saw that. 

Markus frowned under the helmet, but he nodded to him anyway. "Hey. It's teaching me a lesson about being on my phone too much, that's for sure," he responded, an attempt to appear easygoing. Which he was, it wasn't a stretch that he wasn't bothered by the scare. It happens. 

"We were out--Simon, and North, and I," Josh jabbed a thumb at the blond next to him when he said Simon and then over his shoulder as the back window rolled down to reveal a redheaded woman, who leaned out and slapped the side of the car as greeting, "so I figured we'd just swing by here to pick you up. Or I guess, not pick you up, since you've got your own mode of transportation, but lead the way home." 

Giving a nod, Markus waved absently at the passengers. "That sounds like a good idea, then. I'm Markus. It's nice to meet you both, Simon, North." He gestured to them before he swung his leg back over the motorcycle, seating himself neatly and setting his hand on his thigh, flicking his visor back down over his eyes. "Just lead the way. I'll follow you."

With a nod, Josh rolled up the windows (apparently against North's will, who complained loudly as she was forced to pull her arms back into the car before the window squeezed her) and backed out of the spot he had haphazardly parked in. He creeped forward to give Markus space to back up after he turned the key to allow the bike roar to life, feeling it purr familiarly under him. The vibration was soothing, the sound a mere white noise that was as loved as an old song; it was like a piece of home coming with him across this new, hot land. 

Following the car through the unfamiliar streets, he was starting to see through the dust, and the more he got to look at it rising around him, he realized it was more like powdery dirt, his boots becoming browned instead of sanded like he was expecting. It wasn't a long drive from the lot to the place he was going to call home for however long, the small procession pulling up to what he could only describe as a typical southern home--screened-in front porch with a swinging storm door, once-white siding that was now some mix of light brown and green from the dirt and plants around it, a garden blooming on the side facing away from the gravel driveway, a small garage in which he wondered if he would be able to hide his bike when it rained. 

Looking upwards at the second floor, he noted the lights were off and the windows were shut tight against the heat - at least he knew there would be air conditioning, or by god he hoped there would be. Shutting off the engine, he paused as he watched the three get out of the well-loved black car in front of him, Josh immediately beelining over. "Mom was saying you could use the garage. I guess she knew that you'd be on that and didn't tell me, but..." he trailed off, not seeming to think too far ahead about what to say if Markus hadn't said anything. 

"Thanks. Does it rain here?" he asked as he turned the engine right back on, rolling carefully around Josh's car as the redhead, North, hurried over to the garage and threw up the door with practiced ease, practically flinging it up. 

"North! Dammit, don't break the door more than it already is!" 

"It sticks if you don't throw it up, you told me this last time! Remember how it took us ten minutes in the rain to pull the door up!?" 

Letting the two bicker it out while he rolled in, Markus figured it was better than nothing, looking around the darker, cooler interior as he cut the engine for good, swinging his leg off. A grill stood beside him, joined by lawn chairs and wood blocks, it must've been used for outside storage. Pool toys and towels were clustered near the backdoor, and sprinklers dotted the ground around them, reminding him of waiting bear traps. He wondered idly how many people tripped over them as he pulled his helmet off finally, the air cool against his hot face. Setting the kickstand down, he popped open the storage in the back and pulled out the intricately folded duffel bag he brought with him. It was small enough to fit and filled with the very few things he needed--carefully folded clothes that protected a sketchbook and pencils. This wasn't really a pleasure trip after all, though he never went anywhere without some sort of art supply and paper to be able to capture things in the minute before they were gone, fleeting. 

Putting the strap over his shoulder, he walked to the garage entrance and looked between the two still bickering, idly reminded of an old married couple as he passed and instead went to stand by the blond. He noticed Simon’s cheeks coloring pink and chalked it up to the heat. He flashed him a half smile and tipped his head to the side slightly, glancing back at the two again. 

"Do they always bicker like that?" he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets and already feeling the heat settle over and tuck him into its arms, surrounding him in a swath that felt heavier the longer he stood in one spot. 

"Yeah, it's pretty common...They've known each other for a while, I'm fairly certain," Simon responded, eyes darting about almost nervously. Was he concerned about something? 

Markus regarded him for a long moment, studying the bruises under his eyes and the steady darkening of his cheeks under his gaze, baby blues fixating finally on his face and staying put.

"What?" he asked, and that seemed to rouse Markus from the spell he was under whilst studying the other’s soft skin. 

"Nothing, just looking at you," Markus answered, glancing away with the note to himself to capture that expression in his sketchbook the next chance he got. "Half tempted to leave them outside to talk. It's hot out here," he added, shifting uncomfortably under his jacket, its leather fabric and the denim of his jeans settling heavily on his skin, weighed down by the increased heat. 

"It's hot because you're dressed for winter weather." A smile lifted the blond's face, and it grabbed at Markus’ chest with a violent squeeze, making his breath falter for a moment. Oh, forget the previous expression, that smile needed to be immortalized. Dimly, he knew he should answer, but nothing was coming to mind and Josh was already returning to them, catching and redirecting Simon's attention. 

"You could've gone inside already, c'mon." Josh palmed Markus's elbow briefly before taking off to go around the screened in porch, following the pathway worn through from presumed years of use, flattening the grass and mixing it in with the dirt, almost wearing the sprouts away completely. 

Following him obediently, the four drifted from the outside to the porch and then into blissfully cool air. The lower temperature was almost a shock, a chill digging its way up Markus's spine and making him shake, a slight exhale of surprise left him at the effect the sudden change had on his body. Stepping out of the doorway and to the side, he set his helmet on the coat rack for a moment and bent down, tugging the knot of his boot laces and kicking them off, not wanting to track dirt and dust into the comfortable home. 

"Oh, I'm surprised you already knew what Mom would want." 

Markus looked up to see the others toeing their sneakers off, setting them neatly in a shoe rack raised slightly off the ground. Waiting patiently for them to move, Markus carefully set his boots with the others and took his helmet again, not wanting to be rude about where he put it. He figured he'd just leave it by wherever he would sleep, which would likely be the easiest for everyone involved. However, that thought was dashed away when Josh reached and took the helmet from him without a fight, setting it on the counter. 

"Don't worry about being proper or anything. You can just make yourself at home here, we're not that uptight," he said, and almost as if to demonstrate, North was already opening the fridge door and digging through it. "There's been nothing new in there since you last looked this morning," he said without even looking, gathering up some of the scattered mail and setting it in a pile, almost as if to neaten up what wasn't messy. "Here, I'll show you my room. You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch or something." 

Walking back with him, Markus looked around the room. He wasn't sure what he was expecting - band posters, maybe, some clothes piles - but instead there were full bookshelves, a desk set up neatly with a computer and bookends, storage boxes, and a few knick knacks here and there, maybe from adventures with his friends. There were a few bean bag chairs and cushions strewn in a corner by the TV, a few blankets stacked beside the beanbags, and a nested, cozy sort of feeling to the whole room. 

"You don't have to do that, Josh. We can share the bed," Markus said, watching Josh almost choke on his own spit and drop a handful of clothes in surprise, which was accompanied by a _floomph_ noise when they hit the ground. "Or I'll sleep in the little nook over there. Or we can cuddle up. Think about it, and make a decision at nighttime. Just don't sleep on the couch for my sake. I've been couch surfing for the past month anyway," Markus continued, running right over any objection as he set the duffle bag down and shed his jacket, glancing around before he draped it carefully over the back of the chair at his desk and began prying at the button of his jeans. "Sorry, I really need to get out of these. It's too damn hot for jeans," he said, but when he looked up, Josh was already hurriedly rifling through his closet, one of the drawers of the nearby dresser standing open, as if he were cleaning it out. 

Bemused, Markus undid his fly and pushed the heavy fabric from his legs, running a finger over one of the bruises on his shin before folding his jeans. He pried open the zipper of his duffle and fished out joggers instead, tugging them on. No sooner did he pull the waistband over the curve of his ass did North come in, a string cheese stick in one hand and Simon in the other, depositing him at the door and making her way to a beanbag. She flopped down onto it as she pried the plastic wrapping from the snack, starting to peel the cheese. 

"Wow, what if I was naked?" Markus asked, entertained by North’s cavalier attitude. He watched Josh finish clearing out the drawer and point to it, giving Markus a look that indicated he was welcome to use the cleared space. 

He returned it with raised brows and the same amused expression as North responded, "I guess I would see your bare ass, then. Nothing new." The boldness of the redhead was starting to seriously impress Markus, his smile turning into a full grin as he laughed a little and took a slight step back, bumping a bit into Simon and startling both of them. 

Turning his head, he realized Simon was maybe an inch taller than him and that there were little flecks of ice in the mesmerizing blue hue of his eyes, a color that he wanted to capture. The blond's cheeks went dark once more as he cleared his throat and stepped away, opening their space back up and breaking the moment the artist spent indulging in the coolness of the other's eyes. Ugh, get a grip Markus. 

Shaking off the remains of the spell he had been put under, he noticed the tips of Simon's ears turning pink as his blush began to cool off. Markus’ mismatched gaze followed the other as he sank into a red beanbag across from North, pulling his knees to his chest and regarding the room. Markus found himself drifting over toward them, but he paused at his bag and fished out his sketchbook and pencil, flipping it open as he sat right on the carpeted floor with the other two and scooted closer to North to leave a spot for Josh. Using his knees as an easel, Markus opened to a blank page and leaned back on his hands, watching Josh finally finish putting the clothes away in the closet and leaving the empty drawer. 

"You can put your stuff in there, if you want to. Figured it would be better than living out of a bag," Josh said, explaining the previously unanswered question as he dragged over the third beanbag chair and settled into it with a sigh. "You sure you don't want to sit on one of these?" he asked, looking over at the outsider, who shook his head in response, gaze fixed on the page as he curled up, making light passes over the paper with the pencil. 

A moment of comfortable silence, barring the soft scratching of lead on paper, passed before North spoke up. "So, Markus, why'd you come here? To visit?" she asked, catching his attention.

Markus looked up at her and shook his head, biting his lower lip. "I wish, but no. It's a family issue, that's all," he said, feeling suddenly a little shy about sharing what he was there for. "My brother's been missing for a couple of months, so I'm coming to find him and drag his ass back to Detroit with me," he added, and immediately noticed two things that happened in response to his words. The first was both Josh and North looking at Simon the moment Markus spoke of his brother being missing, and the second was the way Simon went stiff--his back straightening like a rod as his shoulders uncurled, eyes widening. 

"Your...brother, he's missing?" Simon repeated, voice starting to falter a bit. 

It made Markus lift his pencil so he could meet his gaze, nodding in response. "Two months ago he stopped communicating with us. Dad got worried, so I decided to go look for him." 

  
  


The silence afterward felt like ages, though it was maybe only a beat before Simon deflated, sitting back with a drawn expression, almost melancholy. It made Markus's chest ache a little, and he looked helplessly between Josh and North to see if either of them were reacting the same way. North steadily refused to face him, almost as if he had said something wrong, offensive. Josh caught his gaze and shook his head slightly as if telling him either to not worry about it or to drop the topic entirely, so he did. 

"It's, uh, hmm." Maybe he should've thought before he opened his mouth, feeling a bit of pressure now with their gazes back on him, knowing that he needed to choose his words carefully. "...I've just been trying to be positive about it. That his stupid ass broke his phone again, or that he's gone soul searching in bad reception, an internet detox." He was trying, and he wondered how obvious it was. Simon's lips curved into a slight smile, but it almost felt like it was one of pity, and North looked away again, so he trailed off once more. However, he couldn’t help but speak up one last time. "I just hope things will work out in the end. That's all." 

\-- 

Time felt infinite the longer they all sat in silence until Josh stood up, immediately catching everyone's attention. "I think," he started, and then he paused for a moment. Was it a pregnant pause or one to let his thoughts catch up? 

Either way, it was enough time for North to get a jab in. "Yeah, no shit." 

The other narrowed his eyes at her and pursed his lips for a moment, but it was clear there was no real venom to it. "I _think_ ," he repeated, stressing the words, "we should go to the corner store and get something to eat. I'm going to see what time mom will be back tonight," he said, and then without waiting for a response, he turned and picked his way over to his bed to get his phone, intending to call someone. 

North groaned from her sprawled position, gathering her splayed limbs and moving to stand, crumpling the plastic wrap of the string cheese as she did. Markus remained curled up for a moment, and so did Simon, who was gazing at him. Noticing only when he looked up again from his sketchbook, he felt his own cheeks flush a bit as he flipped the book shut, slipping his pencil into the binding for safekeeping before moving to his knees and leaning over to get a little closer to Simon, a little more in his space. 

"What's up?" he asked softly, and a bit of pride settled in his chest when those pale cheeks turned rosy once more. 

"I'm just looking at you," Simon said as he unfurled his long limbs and leaned forward to get up, clearly expecting Markus to move. He debated on staying right where he was and playing chicken with the blond, but instead he sat back and let Simon up, grasping his sketchbook before he stood as well. 

Meandering to his duffle, he set the sketchbook on the foot of the bed and leaned down, scooping out his clothes and carrying them to the open drawer. He glanced at Josh and cocked his head to the side curiously when the other made eye contact, setting his clothes within and rolling the drawer shut. Markus figured he could keep his toiletries in the bag until he needed them, wondering idly if he could get another day out of these clothes before he had to wash them, though something told him that neither Lucy nor Josh would let him. Cramming the sketchbook back into his bag, he straightened and nearly bumped into Josh as he slid off the bed, startling both of them and drawing a little laugh from Simon--one he quickly stifled. 

"Mom said she's not going to be home until late tonight, so we could grab pizza, or I could make something small for us and leave her some too," Josh said, eliciting a shrug from Markus as they proceeded out of his room and down the stairs to the living room again. 

"It's up to you. I'm not really picky, and I don't want to be a burden. I could cook too," Markus offered, which was immediately shot down with a shake of the other's head as he went to the kitchen to get his car keys. 

"Josh is basically a housewife," North informed him from the doorway, lacing up her boots. "Not cooking would be more stressful, I bet." 

Josh tsked in annoyance as he walked over to join everyone at the door, Markus hopping in place as he tried to get his boots on without retying the laces--about three more hops away from just letting the backs be smashed down--when he succeeded and sighing in annoyance. 

"That's why I just wear slip ons." Simon smiled at him, the second one out the door after Josh opened it. 

Gesturing for North to go ahead of him, Markus shut the door behind himself and paused, hand hovering over the handle. "Aren't you going to lock the door, Josh?" he asked, watching the other make his way to the car. 

Josh stopped briefly and turned to look at him, scoffing a little teasingly. "We're just going around the corner. We'll be right back. No one's going to break in while we're gone. It's a pretty safe town, disregarding...stuff."

Oh, wow, that sure was convincing. Markus's expression must've betrayed his thoughts because North elbowed him in the ribs to catch his attention, leading him away from the door and through the porch toward Josh's car. 

"Burglary isn't common here. Everyone's got a shotgun and we know everyone here, so it's not like anyone would get away with it. Have you never lived in a small town before?" she asked, watching him linger briefly by the car before she gestured for him to come on and they all started to trail down the sidewalk. 

  
  


"Uh...no." Markus blinked, hurrying to catch up and walk beside Simon, Josh and North walking in front of them. "Dad lives on the outskirts of Detroit. It's been that way ever since I was a kid," he explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

"Well, one of the perks of a small town is that everything is within walking distance," Josh said over his shoulder, "so I didn't need to take the car. When Simon and North go home we can take it." 

Part of Markus wished they took it anyway, or at least something to fan himself - he wasn't used to the type of weather, not to this extent. The combination of the humidity and sheer heat was almost fog-like, making him feel as though he were swimming through the air. Touching the back of his neck, he felt his hand brush against Simon's and realized how distinctly sweaty his palms felt. Was it the humidity covering him like a second skin, or was it the inklings of something softer? Glancing to the side, he noticed Simon seemed to be actively trying not to look at him, though their hands bumped again. 

"Is it always this warm?" Markus asked, trying not to be too obvious as he glanced ahead and noticed Josh and North seemed to be engrossed in their own conversation, so much so as to not pay attention to the two of them. Markus would've listened in if he had half a mind to, but his hand bumped the blond's again, and their fingers brushed together almost teasingly, catching briefly before parting, and he realized there had to be something intentional about this. 

"Summers usually get like this, yeah. It's worse in July, so be ready for that. Usually we sit in front of fans or just accept the heat and go about life with a lot of extra water and less clothes," Simon responded with a little laugh. "Though, sometimes it’s cooler down in the marshes. I guess because of the water that comes in from the river. Even though it doesn't smell the greatest, it beats a heatstroke," he added, though there seemed to be a purpose to bringing up the marshes since his smile faded a little, slight and brief but noticeable to Markus. 

And maybe noticing that slip was why he reached out and hooked his pinkie with Simon's, holding fast. It forced him to fall in step with the other, and there was no comment or fuss made about it, though the other's cheeks seemed to turn much redder than before. 

"I'm not used to this kind of heat. It isn't ever like this in Michigan, but even then, there are a couple of ponds around. No marshes, though. The worst smelling area was the public pool." His nose wrinkled at the thought, and Simon laughed again, this time more genuine. 

A sense of comfort settled on Markus as they walked, a note of fitting into a spot like an arm through a sleeve, his hands sweating but his pinkie locked around that of the boy next to him. It felt almost as secretive as holding hands in school, but they were open and older than that--at least, he certainly hoped they were. 

The general store Josh led them to reminded Markus of an older home--well loved, with an awning and a place for people to sit outside, a floating biotope beside the door with a few water lilies and reeds sprouting from it. The decoration caught and held the newcomer's attention for an extra moment as they passed it, something about it alluring to him, though he couldn’t say what. 

The spell broke as Simon's hold forced him to take his eyes off of it, the screen door almost hitting him when it was released, though he caught it before it could give him a sore arm. 

Inside felt mildly claustrophobic, shelves of candies and treats the first thing to greet them on the right, while the left was cut into the counter with the register, a soda machine crammed between it and the wall. A bulletin board hung from the wall the door was connected to, papers with faces Markus couldn't focus on lining the top, while other general town needs were stuck randomly under them, smaller and of lesser importance. Following down what had to be the main aisle, the counter continued up into a deli area, where subs could be made. A redhead stood behind it, leaning over an onion as he diced it, looking up once they were close. 

"Hey, Josh, pastor kids," he greeted with a brief wave. "Who's the new one?" 

"Hey Jerry. That's Markus, my cousin," Josh said, leaning up against the faux glass divider on the other side of the counter and glancing down at what the man was doing. "Mom said she's staying late at the hospital, so we were getting dinner here. You know what she usually wants, and I think I'll probably get my usual too," he said, moving a little more into the counter as Simon and Markus squeezed through behind him. 

Markus leaned into Josh to sandwich him between his body and the divider as he passed, making the latter grunt in annoyance before Markus let up with a laugh, getting past him to the end of both the aisle and the counter. Glancing up at the board hanging above Jerry’s head, he whistled low at the options, bemused at just what was available in such a cozy space. 

"We got a couple of premade sandwiches in the back," Jerry supplied helpfully when Markus took a long moment, pointing to where the coolers and freezer space was. Nodding to him, he glanced at Simon and ended up pulling him along, North staying with Josh to get something particular made. 

"I usually just get something small. Dad likes to try and have sit down dinners with us," Simon murmured when they were out of earshot, like it was some sort of secret to be kept between them, though Markus wasn't sure who 'us' was encompassing, and Simon didn't elaborate. 

Not feeling particularly picky, he just grabbed one of the premade turkey subs and figured he would dredge up condiments once they got back, though Simon pointed wordlessly to the small divider of condiments sitting on the bottom of the cooler beside the myriad of seemingly homemade teas and drinks, labelled differently than all the rest. 

"That's like the flea market sort of area. Kara likes to give some of the new drinks she makes and whatever excess milk they have from the farm," Simon piped up when he noticed Markus lingering over one of the contained smoothies, holding a couple of mustard packets. 

"How many people are in this town?" he asked as he took one of the mixed berry smoothies, noticing Simon holding a strawberry banana one. 

"Oh, around a hundred, I think. It's really a small town. We're not joking when we say everyone knows everyone else," he answered, idly curling his pinkie around Markus's a bit more, drawing his attention to their hands again. He studied them quietly for a moment and Simon almost seemed to be holding his breath, but Markus merely smiled at him and bumped his shoulder into his, moving down another aisle to grab a bag of chips. 

  
  


"It definitely makes it easy to keep track of everyone," he responded, pulling Simon through the longer shelving and back around to the front, having to curve around to reach the counter again. 

This time a taller man stood there, his size making Markus feel quite a bit smaller, but his expression suggested nothing but kindness. "Oh, hello," he greeted awkwardly, realizing yet again that he was the new guy in town and noticeably out of place wearing long sleeves and joggers. 

"You look like you're dressed for the wintertime." The man's voice was colored with an accent that Markus couldn't quite place, gesturing to the newcomer to set what he had on the counter. 

Regrettably he and Simon had to let go of each other so he could juggle everything and set it on the counter without dropping it all, while North wandered over to join them, saying, "Hey Luther." She greeted the man, glancing at what Markus and Simon had picked out. "Why are you two getting smoothies? Lookin' all healthy and shit, you're going to make Josh and I look bad." 

Markus wasn't sure if he was actually being scolded or not in the moment, staring at her blankly as Simon merely rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh. "It's your own fault for not getting something healthy, North, don't blame us," he retorted neatly, his hand bumping Markus's again. Instinctively, he reached and curled his pinkie around Simon's once more, holding on and feeling almost shy about it but not wanting to let go either. 

"I do eat healthy! Meat is very healthy, it's full of protein and whatever." 

"A well-balanced diet is important for growth," Luther cut in neatly as Josh finally joined the group, along with Jerry from the other side. Though, he was just there to set the wrapped subs down before he headed back to the main creation station, obviously not interested in joining in. 

Setting the sodas and their own bags of chips on the counter, he scooted and purposely bumped Markus back to get in front of them all, rummaging in his pockets to pull out his wallet. 

  
  


"Wait, I could pay," Markus tried, and Josh cut him off with a glare. 

"Absolutely not. You're the guest here, and Mom would kick me into next week if I let you pay," he said, turning back to pay for their gourmet meal of sandwiches and chips. He handed Simon and Markus their respective smoothies, a straw poked up out of each, Josh opting to carry both of the bags. 

"Be safe out there," Luther said in lieu of a standard goodbye, standing like a watchful guardian over the group as they started out the door. 

"You too," Simon responded, seeming almost wistful about it as they shuffled out and back into the humidity. The sun was mercifully starting to creep its way across the sky toward the west, and the sky was already beginning to shift into a pink color. 

Markus wanted to linger, to figure out why they needed to be safe in a proclaimed 'safe small town,' but he was already being pulled from the cramped space. The door swung shut behind him, and then the screen door followed suit with a loud smack of finality as they left. 

*** 

"I didn't realize North and Simon were related," Markus said as he got into the passenger seat of Josh's car, pulling on the seatbelt and looking out toward the church. 

Both cousins returned the wave Simon and North gave before they went in, the doors swinging shut behind them. The building looked impossibly old, made out of brick with a large spire crucifix reaching toward the sky, the sun setting behind it almost giving off an eerie glow. Otherworldly. 

"Well, they're adopted," Josh said, though he seemed hesitant, choosing his words carefully. 

Markus looked at him curiously, hoping he would continue, but instead the driver merely shook his head and pulled off, eyes on the road as he drove towards his home. "Do they live inside of the church?" he asked instead of trying to press, though he really wanted to know what they all seemed to be tiptoeing around, what he was missing out on. 

"Their house is kind of connected to it in a way, they live in the back end. It's a little hard to explain without just showing you it, but we usually hang out at my place. Their dad is..." Josh trailed off, clearly struggling to come up with the perfect word to describe the enigmatic man Markus assumed he would be. "...the pastor, obviously, but he's...very zealous, I think. Something about him just always feels off to me, especially recently. You'd think he'd be really friendly since he's supposed to be the Lord's mouthpiece or whatever, but...I don't know how to describe him. You'll have to meet him. Either ways, it's just easiest for us to be at my place," he finished, shaking his head as he slowed down for a stop sign, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. 

"I see," was all Markus responded with, and Josh glanced at him with a troubled expression. But if he wouldn't elaborate, then neither would Markus, as petty as it was of him. Settling back in his seat instead, he looked out at the buildings and homes that he hadn't been able to appreciate on his motorcycle, different sizes and colors, and yet all seeming to be exactly where they were supposed to be: with each other. 

When Josh parked at the house again, there was another car there that hadn't been before. "Oh, Mom's home," he supplied, shutting the car off and getting out. "I guess she was able to get off a little bit earlier after all. I can't imagine a lot was happening." 

He seemed to want to fill the silence, especially with Markus's sudden unwillingness to talk with him. Though it wasn't from ill will or anything of the sort; he was lost in thought about what seemed to be missing from everything. There was something so off under everything normal about this town, something lying in wait like a predator in the tall grass, and Markus was so damn curious about it. Following Josh inside, a woman who Markus had only seen in pictures stood at the counter, eating what they had brought back for her. Her eyelids were heavy, eyes dark and her short hair almost darker, parchment with deep ink blotches was what she reminded him of. 

"Hey, Mom." 

"Hey, aunt Lucy." 

The two greeted her at the same time, catching her attention and causing her to set her food down, wiping her hands off on the front of her scrubs before she walked over with arms open, wrapping both Josh and Markus up in her embrace. "Oh, hello, babies," she greeted them both, and although Markus had never really had a motherly figure in his life, he suddenly felt a sense of peace sit itself in his chest. He leaned into her touch, head resting on her shoulder as he soaked in the affection, mismatched eyes falling shut. "Did you get here okay? Has Josh been taking care of you? Did you two eat?" she peppered them with questions, making Josh groan a little, but good-naturedly, in a way. 

"I got here okay, and he's been really helpful with getting me used to the town. We hung out with Simon and North, and we got food at the general store," Markus responded as they pulled away, though part of him wanted to linger longer in her embrace. 

She stepped away once more and went back to the counter, Josh trailing to the fridge presumably to sift through leftovers or grab something, and Markus followed her over, leaning up against the counter next to her. 

"Did you just get home?" he asked her, curious as he noticed now the light shadows under her eyes, the stress she seemed to carry on her shoulders. 

"Mm, yes. For a small town, we keep having mishaps with the same forty people," Lucy sighed, swiping a thumb over the corner of her mouth before she whipped around, catching Josh drinking straight from the milk jug. "Joshua Parker Sawyers!" she scolded, making him choke and quickly cap the jug, putting it back. "What have I told you about drinking straight out of the jug? You think just because I'm talking to your cousin I don't know what you're doing?" She was giving him an earful, and Markus had to cover his mouth to avoid laughing, catching the look Josh gave him before he turned back to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. 

"Couldn't help it, and I didn't want to get a cup," he responded sullenly, and then he shut the fridge and turned to her. "I'm going to turn in early, Mom. We're going to the marshes tomorrow, and I'm not really willing to stand in it after the sun gets up overhead," he said, and Lucy paused. 

"Is Markus coming with you?" she asked, and he looked at the aforementioned guest with raised brows, indicating that he should answer instead. 

"...Yeah," Markus responded, staring back at him with an unreadable expression. "I like hanging out with you guys already. Wouldn't miss my first marsh walk for very much," he added, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter a bit, not breaking eye contact with his cousin and making Josh look away first to meet his mother's gaze. 

"Having more people never hurts," Josh finished, glancing away from her too. 

"All right. You all be careful. I'll likely still be sleeping when you leave. Don't forget to put on sunscreen and bring something to drink, especially when it gets hotter out there," Lucy said, setting down the sandwich again and moving to her son, cupping his cheeks and turning his head to press a kiss to his forehead. "Good night, baby," she said, and he mumbled back a quick "good night" before he headed toward the stairs. She turned to Markus, who was starting to push off from the counter to follow the other up. "You get some rest too, especially since you aren't used to this weather or this town," she said, to which he nodded. Blinking when her cool hands touched his cheeks as well, he found himself leaning down a bit to let her kiss his forehead and shutting his eyes for a long moment once more, even after she pulled away from him. "Good night, baby." 

"Good night, aunt Lucy," Markus murmured, opening his eyes and giving her a smile before he went and headed upstairs as well, feeling an odd weight shift and settle right in his ribcage, nestled in like it belonged just as much as he did in this town. 

Getting to Josh's room, he was mildly amused to see the other sitting on the end of the bed, arms folded, lights already off. "I'll let you sleep on here with me, but don't make it weird," he said immediately, before Markus even opened his mouth. "Put some clothes on too. Don't sleep next to me with nothing on." 

"It's only weird if you make it weird, Josh," Markus hummed, unable to help his grin as he turned away and stripped off his shirt, pulling on a tank top and climbing over from the end of the bed, lying up against the wall. 

Josh laid back beside him, bringing the covers up on the both of them before settling in, lying on his back. His shoulder bumped and settled against Markus's, which neither of them minded. 

"...Why are we going to the marsh tomorrow?" Markus spoke up after a long moment of silence, rolling onto his side to look at the other. In the darkness he could see Josh swallowing hard, eyes shut as if he could block out the question, or as if he could see the answer in front of him. 

"We're looking for someone. I wasn't sure if I should tell you because this isn't really my business to tell, but you deserve to know if we're going to be dragging you into it," he sighed, which made Markus all the more curious. "We're looking for Daniel. He went missing earlier this month, and we've been experiencing a lot of people disappearing lately. But...he's Simon's twin brother, and Simon's been torn up about it ever since he left. He lost his friend too, so I suppose we might be searching for him as well. Conrad and Daniel. We already have scoured the town thoroughly, so we thought we could go into the marsh and see if they wound up there somehow. Or if anyone's wound up there." 

Markus was silent for a long moment, staring at Josh in the dark, making out the curves and lines of his face, his chest, the blankets over him. "How many people have gone missing?" he asked, pulling the pillow down a bit more and adjusting how he laid. 

"It's June now, so six. One person every month, on the first of the month. It's been a pattern, and yet nobody knows who's doing it or where they've gone. And it's not like this place is huge, so it's getting frustrating at this point." Josh sounded annoyed, like he'd been pouring over this on his own, spending late nights at that desk of his and going over every block, every building, every nook and cranny and possible hiding spot in the entire town to try and figure out where these people were going. Where was everyone going, and who would be next? Markus could see how it would be terrifying, concerning, and he settled into the knowledge that he was going to go along with this, along with anything asked of him. This was something bigger than he was, and it felt wrong to turn away from it. 

And maybe, selfishly, it would lead him to Leo. The entire reason he was there in the first place. 

"...Well, maybe we'll find something tomorrow. G'night, Josh," Markus sighed, moving his arm and laying it across the other's waist, which was met with him squirming and pushing his arm off. 

"What the hell did I just say about making it weird?" Josh huffed in response, to which Markus moved and attempted to put both arms around him for a snuggle, fighting off a smile. 

The pacifist reached around and grabbed his pillow, beating Markus back into the wall before stuffing it back down, rolling over with a huff, and pulling the covers up over his shoulders. "Good night, you jerk," he muttered, and Markus finally laughed. 

Rolling over to face the wall, he scooted back enough to be able to touch him in some way, which was apparently acceptable enough because he wasn't met with any sort of pushback this time. Wrapping his arms around the pillow, he rested his head on it and suddenly found it a little hard to sleep, eyes open in the darkness, fixated on nothing in particular. He wasn't thinking of anything organically his own, only churning words spoken to him over in his mind, the new mystery of this town rolling like marbles in his head, spinning 'round and 'round until his eyes were falling shut without him realizing it. And once they were shut, he was drifting to sleep, only lingering on the thought of blond-haired boys, and the shy smile he'd been given, and just how much he already felt enveloped in this town. 

Like he was always meant to be there.


	2. 02

It was still dark when they rolled up to the church again. Markus didn’t bother to change out of his tank top but was forced into an old pair of swim trunks, practically neon red in the dim light, with an ugly Hawaiian pattern on them. He wore it begrudgingly, but Josh had assured him that it wasn't an attack on his fashion sense or a way to embarrass him; it was a necessity for going into the marsh. 

"You're not going to want to wear any of your clothes. Trust me on this," he'd said, and part of Markus didn't trust how genuine it was despite the fact that Josh was also in a tacky pair of swim trunks, though they were green instead. 

"You know it's not Christmastime, right?" was the first thing North said when she got in, giving the two a pointed look. "You didn't have any other clothes to bring?" 

"Why would I not use these? When will I ever wear them again, huh? You're not even the one to talk, looking like some sort of small child in that thing." Josh gestured back at her, specifically the 'tankini' (as Markus was helpfully told later) she sported, mismatched from the black bottoms with its gaudy print. 

"Boy, if you weren't driving us there I'd slap you right in the head." She tsked, making Markus laugh despite the glare it earned him. 

"Markus, keep it up and you're going in the backseat with her. Simon would never treat me this way." He screwed up his face, pulling away from the curb once the two in the back were situated and had their seatbelts on. 

The streets were empty, and the traffic lights were green as they coasted through the cool night, humidity not quite as bad with the sun still hiding, a handful of hours away from rising. Markus rested his head back on the headrest, shutting his eyes. Maybe he drifted off, because when he was aware of everything again, they had parked and Josh was shaking his shoulder a little. 

"I'm up," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and looking out at their surroundings, hand fumbling for the seat belt release. 

They were parked in a three slot parking lot, if it could even be called that. The area was mostly gravel, logs jutting up from the ground to mark the parking area, or at least that was what he assumed they were there for. The surroundings were mostly reeds and tall grass, the wild lands that must've been the outside of the town where a large body of water would be, like a lake or a pond if he had to guess. Stepping out of the car along with the others, a scent hit Markus like a face full of bricks, and he covered his nose and mouth, making a muffled noise of discomfort. 

"What the fuck?" he wrinkled his nose, struggling to place a name to the scent, a descriptor., like something was wet, rotting, and all around unpleasant. 

"Oh, I guess you've never smelled a marsh, huh?" Simon laughed a little, sitting in the backseat with the car door open and his legs out, pulling off his socks and shoes and putting on sandals instead. North was already in flip flops, and Josh was tugging the back tab of his water shoes out from under his heel, leaning on the car for support. 

"No, I haven't. You guys are going in just sandals?" Markus was curious, and more than a little interested at the idea of just keeping on the spare pair of sandals he stole from Josh's closet, the owner not noticing until they got into the car, and by then he didn't care about it. 

"Yeah. We just need something under the bottom of our feet since it's low tide this morning and the marsh shouldn't be too deep this time of day. Let's get going, though, I don't want to be here when high tide comes." North started off towards the man made path through the reeds, thin plywood boards laid like a walkway over the mud and flattened grass. 

Markus followed her and was followed by Simon--whose hand bumped against his own, catching his attention--with Josh bringing up the rear.

"It's not too bad once you get out there. We've been running through this place since we were kids, it's nothing we don't know like the back of our hands. Not much has changed about it," Simon murmured, almost reassuring as his fingertips brushed the inside of Markus's palm. There was a tingling in his hand where his fingers had grazed, and he could only muster a hum of acknowledgement while he tried to find his voice. 

"I'm just concerned about the smell, really. And what we're going to do about it afterwards. I don't want it sticking around," he groaned, starting to feel the ground give way and sink under his weight, the reeds beginning to peter out and open up to a much wider space. 

The marsh was nothing spectacular, just dark mud in the gloom, the lowering moon and lazy sun their sources of light. His eyes had adjusted by now, so he could faintly see outlines and shapes, divots in the soft ground and presumed hardened places that he wouldn't sink in as much. Stepping into the marsh itself, he gasped as his foot sank deeply, swallowed by cool mud full of rocks and whatever else, something he wasn't sure that he liked. Taking another, larger step, he was dismayed as he seemed to sink deeper, struggling to pull his other foot out to be able to go further in. The noise the ground made when it released his foot mixed with the sound of his sandal almost getting lost made Markus gag, and North burst out laughing at him. 

"City boy's never had to deal with something like this, huh?" she called to him, and his cheeks flushed dark. 

"Ugh, stay over there, North," he called back, embarrassed as he took another step, teetering in the precarious, soft surface he was trying to get through. At this rate, he'd be too busy trying to figure out how to walk in it to be much good for looking at anything else. His hands rose without conscious thought to either side, stretching out as he fought for balance, the briny scent worsening with every step he took. More consistent, heavy steps came toward him, and Markus thought about screaming, but he was happy he didn't as Josh's hand clamped down on his wrist and pulled him a little, nearly knocking him off-balance. 

"If you walk by the reeds on the outskirts," he said, pointing off a bit, "the ground is firmer, and you won't sink as much. It might help you." 

Markus nodded, having the half thought to be embarrassed as he picked his way over to the outskirts where he'd been directed, glad to feel himself sinking less and less into the ground the closer he got. Grasping and brushing his hands over the tall shoots of grass, he bit back another scream when he felt something mildly fuzzy, cork-like almost. Jerking his hand back, he realized a moment later that he, in all likelihood, had grabbed a cattail; nothing was dangerous here at the moment, and nothing was going to hurt him. 

  
  


They were spread out but not out of eyesight of each other, their figures standing out against the slowly brightening horizon. The sky changed from deep blue to indigo to a softer shade of purple without any of them noticing, eyes cast down into the deeply trodden mud, searching endlessly for something nondescript, for anything at all. Markus was buried in the plants for some time before he finally treaded back out to join the others in the thick of the marsh, trying to reach the other patches of sturdier land to see if there was anything hidden among the reeds. As he stepped, he noticed the way Simon and North were careful of certain spots, taking cues from something that seemed to make sense only to them, only to people who grew up in the lands. 

Before he could ruminate too hard on the stark difference between his life and theirs, he stepped down and would not stop sinking. This time he really did yell out in shock, sinking down to his waist in the greedy mud, feeling chunks of what he really didn't want to know pressing into his legs, seeping through as if it would keep him there. 

Immediately, Simon was coming his way, picking through and clearly trying not to laugh in the dim lighting, standing beside him within arm's reach. "Okay, hang on." Testing the mud around them without letting himself sink down as well, Simon tapped a spot with his foot as a gesture, reaching out to Markus. "Try to get your foot there, and I'll see if I can help you get out. Worst comes to worst, we pull you out."

"No, worst comes to worst, we leave his ass here," North called, and Simon shot her a warning glare. 

"We're trying to look for people, not leave more here," he scolded, turning back to Markus once he reached up and took his hands, holding fast. 

Shifting and wriggling against the quickly tugging mud, he managed to get a foot up and out to where Simon had gestured to, working both with his own strength and Simon pulling on him to free his other leg, though he immediately went down onto his knees once both feet were out, ducking his head and groaning. 

"This place is a mess. It's pothole central," he complained, rising to his feet and squeezing both of Simon's hands. "Thank you, Si," he murmured, leaning in a little to keep it between them. He could see a small freckle on his cheek, the shadows his lashes cast on his face, the couple of loose strands that strayed from the direction he brushed the rest of his hair, and the way his cheeks were darkening under his scrutiny. 

"It's...no problem, Markus." His voice didn't waiver, and he seemed composed, but his expression was starting to suggest something else. 

Stepping back, they parted, and Markus found it regrettable. Part of him wished Simon wouldn't go anywhere, that he would just stay close to him. It seemed a little less cumbersome to go through this hole-ridden space with the blonde next to him. Shaking off the feeling that threatened to linger with him, he finished the passage over to the other set of reeds and went back to looking through them. Pushing away and parting stalks, he noticed the odd bug or pattern of rocks from time to time, but there was nothing that he thought resembled a body or anything really important. 

The violet sky was beginning to bleed pink and red, oranges and yellows beginning to show up as their surroundings came into view, which meant their expedition would need to start wrapping up. Markus couldn't see the initial reeds anymore, as they'd ended up traveling a good distance away, but he could see Josh's expression suggested the beginnings of frustration, North started to kick little crabs away with more force than necessary, and Simon's shoulders had wilted, slumping. He felt a little pained looking at them, a weight settling in his chest that felt like heavy disappointment, though at the same time it felt good there was nothing in the marsh. No bodies, which meant whomever they were looking for was still alive and wasn't hidden in the brine, trying to survive among mud and crabs, bacteria and rocks. 

Beginning to slog around the perimeter to make a large sweep around them, Markus was starting to sink more into the mud despite being close to the reeds, and the smell was growing more and more pungent. He gave a low moan of discontent as he lifted his arm to cover his nose for a brief respite, gazing around at the lumpy surface as he began to sense there was something amiss. Displaced stalks, a shallow sheen of liquid over the top of the light brown slop, and something just felt deeply wrong. 

Part of him didn't want to go toward it, but something had ensnared his gut, twisting fingers into the spaces and pulling him in, tugging him through the thickness surrounding his legs. It weighed them down, as the mud had caked onto his skin at this point, layers and layers of it that abruptly gave out on him as he tripped, knees hitting something solid. Lurching forward, he threw his hands out and felt them sink into the mud. Shutting his eyes tight, he hit the surprisingly cool substance with his face, feeling it dab his cheeks and forehead. His fingers winded into something stringy, something that wrapped around his hands tight, unwilling to let him go. 

Lifting his head, he groaned and struggled to get his hands out from where they were entrapped, sinking his hands down further into the mud to find the root of it, kneading it with his fingers the deeper down they went. He touched something hard, both hands feeling dips and curves before he cupped the root of the strands in both hands and tugged a little. Clamoring back, his leg hit something and he almost went down again, groaning as he pulled once more, trying to get whatever it was up to him. 

"Markus?" he heard Josh call, but he didn't respond for the moment, lips moving absently, though no sound came out, too focused on what he was doing. 

He could see his hands finally, what was around them seemed like strings, intertwined and knotted heavily around his fingers, making it hard for him to pry his fingers apart. What was in his hands, though, what they were connected to...he felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. Mud-caked and soft, sallow at this point, rigor mortis had come and gone. His thumbs wiped at what he could get to with the hair holding his hands in place, and discovered tanned flesh drained of color, eyes shut against the brine, dark brown sludge trailing down his cheeks, and face completely slack. 

Markus screamed. 

*** 

Because his hands were ensnared in the body's hair, Markus spent a long time cupping its head. His heart had gradually stopped pounding, but his stomach kept lurching, his hands wouldn't quit shaking, and he was unable to really take his eyes off of the peaceful expression of whomever he was stuck with. Simon sat with him in the cool marsh, watching the sky turn blue and the sun start to rise, the heat rising with it. 

Despite being much cooler in the marsh, it didn't completely stifle the rising heat, and the smell was beginning to increase from it. Decomposition; that had been the scent Markus followed. Josh and North had left them alone to go back to call the police and direct them to the spot, so it was just the two of them and the body, someone Markus didn't know and Simon was trying to figure out. 

Pale hands worked to clean the face off, revealing a short bit of stubble, dark hair, and then he spoke up, "It's Elijah." 

Elijah's hair was long, which made sense as it was able to keep Markus's hands in place, and he couldn't bring himself to violently pull away and risk hurting the already dead man under him. Having a name to the face cupped in his hands made it all too real, too personal; under his hands was someone who had been alive, now limp and buried in the marsh. 

Shutting his eyes tight, Markus turned his head and tucked it into Simon's neck, finding it hard to keep looking at the body, so selfishly hard. He didn't want to cry, but he felt a certain tenderness for the stranger he found, had never met before, and yet he wanted to mourn him. Whoever had been waiting up for him would be devastated, and some part of Markus felt at fault for it somehow. Simon leaned his head against the top of Markus', and there was a certain comfort to the reciprocated touch that quelled some of his unwarranted guilt and gave him a sense of brief peace. 

Unsure of how much time passed with Markus hiding away against Simon, soon enough the telltale noise of people walking through the marsh grew closer to them, North's voice carrying but her words indistinct. Lifting his head, he looked out and saw three men coming with North and Josh, two younger, dark-haired men and a much older man, grizzled and grumpy looking, long silver locks tied back likely due to the heat. 

The older man reached them and he looked down at them, brow furrowed. "Why are you still holding on to him?" was the first thing he asked, and Markus felt the mild temptation to be snarky, though he refrained for many reasons and instead opted for the truth. 

"My hands are tangled in his hair," he responded, pulling one hand away a bit to demonstrate, the strands in knots and caked in mud holding fast to his hand, twisted and curled around his fingers like a trap. 

"How the hell did that happen?" the man asked, turning his head before Markus had a chance to answer. He barked out, "Connor! C'mere and help me out."

"Coming, Lieutenant." 

Connor arrived and crouched down to peer closer at Markus's tangled hands, Elijah's head still cradled as the entrapped young man finally answered the Lieutenant. His voice had a tremorous undertone, words falling as if he couldn’t get them out fast enough. "I guess I tripped over him, and when I stuck my hands out I got them in his hair. I don't know how it got so tangled, I really didn't try to do it on purpose, I can't get my hands out." 

Dimly, he thought he might be in shock, in hysterics. He couldn't stop shaking. He also heard a couple clicks of a camera, the third man working his way around and taking photos. Crime scene photos. Oh, god, he was in the middle of a crime scene, he was touching a dead body. A part of Markus felt dread dripping cold down his sternum, and under the hot sun he was deathly cold. A sense of terror, maybe, unnecessary guilt rising again although he was completely innocent. He couldn't hide his face in Simon's neck again, not with everyone around him. For his own sake, he simply shut his eyes as if he could escape from the events around him, as if he could quiet everything for just a moment and go back to the morning when he woke up because Josh rolled on top of him, and the weight was crushing, yet so very warm. 

Counting the clicks of the camera, at six he could finally feel hands grasping the strands weaved and knotted around his fingers, slight tugs and movements to start to free him from the hold. Opening his eyes again, he watched as Connor took his time carefully unwinding mud-caked hair from first his index finger and then his middle, and then continued with the other two fingers. Hank was a little less gentle, grumping and swearing every so often when he struggled with a knot or a particularly large clump of hair. 

Eventually, Markus could wiggle his fingers, and after countless minutes he could finally slide his hands from where they'd been trapped, lines and streaks cutting across the brine on his hands, leaving him striped and dirtier than before. He felt so unbearably filthy in ways that lay below the skin, knowing he had grasped a previously living person, knowing that he found someone in the marsh. 

He moved back when he felt fully freed, his hand moving and touching someone's arm--a look presented Simon, and Markus skimmed his hand down Simon's muddied arm and grasped his hand, squeezing it. He needed an anchor, part of him feeling so very vulnerable upon finding something like this. He knew he likely wasn't putting on a good face, and god knows what everyone in Detroit would think if they found out something had frightened him this badly, but it wasn’t every day he tangled his hands in a dead man's hair. Simon’s grip back did little to soothe the feeling of ghostly stands still wound around his fingers. He wanted to get out of here so badly, but they were a part of a crime scene now. 

Hank carefully laid Elijah back into the marsh to let the third man take pictures, Connor corralling them away from the 'scene', his words careful and measured. "We'll need to take statements from you all while we're here, but at a later time we could talk more at the station--after we get the body out and maybe everyone gets freshened up a bit," he offered, and Markus found himself nodding, squeezing Simon's hand again. "We'll have to split you guys up to talk, but it won't take too long apart, and then you can get out of here since this is now technically an active crime scene." 

As Connor spoke, Markus's gaze drifted, magnetized toward where Elijah lay, some of the mud starting to reclaim him as Hank and the other man spoke to each other in low tones, the camera shutter going off a couple more times. Staring at the way the prone body lay, he seemed peaceful, like he had been floating on the surface of a pool when he found himself being swallowed in, his hair plastered to his face and splayed out around his head, cutting through the mud to leave faint impressions. Barely there, like they would have felt on Markus’ hands if they hadn't entwined him so hard, thick locks swathed like rope locking him in, and yet in the mud there was nothing left. How was that so? 

"Markus." 

Simon's soft whisper woke him from his daze, and he found it difficult to tear his gaze away from the dead man. Something about him was so commanding, and yet he wasn't even doing anything at all. But finally, he could pull away, meeting that concerned expression with its drawn pale brows and water-blue eyes, and something in him felt tender at the obvious worry. 

"Let's get out of here, he'll talk to all of us on the way, and then while we dry off a bit, we'll be interviewed," Simon explained as Markus looked out at the others, noting they were already picking their way out of the area. 

Starting to follow with heavy legs, part of him felt wrong for leaving Elijah behind, and he turned to look behind him at the other one last time. Part of him oddly expected him to change, and yet instead he was the same as he ever had been, still as a statue and slack-faced, sinking a bit deeper into the mud, much more than Markus suddenly felt comfortable with. And then there was a brief shock of panic that wasn't his own, the fear of being submerged and a mangled noise wrenched its way out of his throat, a squeak that caught both Simon and Hank's attention.

"Don't let him sink," Markus managed with effort, looking at Elijah with wide eyes. "Don't let him sink." It must've been so stuffy, claustrophobic, being retaken by the Earth and sinking back from whence he came. 

Hank's brows furrowed, but he nodded and leaned down, hefting Elijah up briefly once again, taking him out of the mud a bit more with a grunt of effort. "We have to get the boys down here with a stretcher, but he won't sink back in. Just get outta here, kid." 

Something about the gruffness made him hesitate, but the same place that the panic came from told him the other was trustworthy, that he would be fine. So he lingered for one moment more before finally relenting and following Simon back the way they came, their hands holding fast to one another. 

Picking through the mud, Josh did a good portion of explaining to Connor why they had been out in the marsh in the first place and why Markus was with them. He could tell by the way the detective's glance flicked back to him from time to time that he was definitely suspect, but maybe it was just because he was an outsider. The mud finally got less and less deep, the ground becoming firmer until their feet were hitting the planks, the reeds around them thickening and finally giving way to the parking lot. Already there were a couple of extra police cruisers, but there was another waiting that Markus wasn't expecting to see. 

"Joshua! Markus!" Lucy hurried over from the ambulance that was present, gathering first Josh in her arms before she grasped Markus, pulling him into their hug. 

Dimly he knew that he needed to let go of Simon's hand, but he didn't want to, he hardly wanted to lean into his aunt because of the mud clinging to his front. "I'm a mess, aunt Lucy," he managed out, his own body feeling suddenly sluggish, as if all of the emotions he felt before were leaving him, taking his energy with their departure. Then again, this was all new, all traumatic in a sense and he'd never experienced the feeling of...whatever it was that made him panic. Empathy, but in a much stronger sense than he'd ever felt before. Empathy for a dead person, as if he'd grasped him from the afterlife and yelled for him, through him,  _ don't let me sink in and be lost again. Don't lose me, don't lose me. _

"Well, I'm about to be in that mess myself, so you hug me back right now," she demanded, and he finally found a slight smile rose as he lifted his free arm and wrapped it around her waist, burying his face in her neck. "They called and mentioned to the hospital that the call came from the marsh, and I knew you all had been out there, and I didn't want somebody else here instead of me, just in case it was one of you." She took Markus' face in her hands and drew him back, looking over his face. "What happened, Markus?" 

Words eluded him in that moment, and all he could really do was lower his eyes in undue shame, biting his lower lip. 

"We found Elijah," Simon supplied for him, squeezing his hand as if to pull him back into the moment instead of letting him fall back into the pit of unnecessary guilt. 

"Is he okay? That's why we were called?" Lucy asked, and Markus could feel Simon's hesitation. His breath caught for a moment and when he glanced over, he could clearly see the blond searching for the right words, his gaze wavering over the different aspects of Lucy's face. 

"He's dead. I found-I found his body. In the marsh, I pulled him out," Markus answered finally, and it felt like he had just dropped a weight atop a thin sheet of ice. A chill swept across his face despite the rising heat of the day, his chest tightening as he found it impossible to look her in the eye anymore. Instead, he looked to where his hand clasped Simon's, how their muddied fingers somehow found the space between each other and mixed neatly, the ghost feeling of strands smothered by the pressure of Simon's palm against his. 

Unexpectedly, he felt a soft hand stroke the top of his head, fingertips trickling down the side of his face before lifting his chin, forcing him to meet his aunt's gaze. Before she could say anything, a soft noise of someone clearing their throat quieted her as six pairs of eyes settled themselves on the intruder, on Connor. 

"Markus, right? I just need to ask you a couple of questions, if that's all right. By yourself, if you don't mind, Simon." he looked pointedly at the blond, who flushed and gently squeezed before he let go. The feeling of strands around Markus’ fingers started to gradually return the further he was led from Simon, the gravel crunching under their feet. Connor turned to face him, pulling out his notebook once more and holding his pen poised for notes. "Just for the record, what's your full name? We'll probably have to ask you this at the station, too." 

"Markus Manfred. Am I in trouble?" The question was instinctual even though everything told him he wasn't, but he didn't want to break this habit now, lest he forget once he got out of this heated town. 

"No, not at all. I just want to ask some questions before we get you all down at the station. A preliminary thing. How long have you been in this town?" he asked, his brown eyes molten, warm, like hot lava cake. 

All at once, Markus knew that this man was trustworthy--for now, anyway. "I got here yesterday, sometime around noon. I'm staying with Josh and Lucy Sawyers, Lucy is my aunt," Markus responded, and Connor skritched something down. 

"Can you tell me what happened when you found--" he paused with a hum, thinking, before he concluded, "the body?"

Swallowing hard, Markus took a breath before launching into the details of the last few hours, though he left out the panic that wasn't his own that had surged through him, as well as the idea that some sort of force pulled him toward that spot. Connor nodded every so often, as if to urge him to keep going, whenever he paused, gaze jumping between Markus and the notebook in which he was checking items off, a few extra scribbles here and there, but ultimately he seemed like he was just verifying his story matched with the others. 

"Thank you for telling me about this," Connor said once Markus was finished, offering him a slight sympathetic smile, almost like a puppy dog. "I hope you'll come down with everyone else later, but I'd also understand if you needed to take a break from things. I just have to talk to Simon and y'all will be free to go and get your showers." The officer reached and gently cupped Markus's shoulder for a fraction of a second before letting go, moving past him to presumably go approach the blond to ask him the same questions. 

Breathing deep, Markus didn't realize that he must've gotten used to the pungent scent, the brine the only real thing he could smell anymore. It wasn't wholly awful, and yet now it was just going to remind him of the rotting body that he would never forget about. Somehow his hands ended up in his view, and he stared at the mud streaks on them, realizing there were still strands that had been imbued in his fingers--maybe that was what he had been feeling? 

Gingerly, he unraveled a strand, letting it drop and slip into oblivion, unseen amongst the gravel at his feet. Prying off another strand, his hands started shaking--why were they shaking? He felt numbed again, letting go of the strand he'd found. When he looked back, delicate bronzed fingers were urging some of the muddied strands off his fingers, and his gaze lifted to see North in front of him, eyes downcast and focused on her work. 

"You're probably not in the mood for jokes," she said when she noticed that he'd started paying attention to her, "but we're here for you. And you found Elijah. That's something none of us have been able to accomplish. Stop beating yourself up over it, I can see it in your face that you're feeling guilty for no goddamn reason." 

He felt like she was scolding him a little and he blinked at her, taking a moment before he realized that her words slid some of the pressure that had been sitting on his chest to the wayside. How did she manage that? 

"Okay," he said softly, even though he wasn't sure if that was possible for him to do. After all, getting rid of guilt was much easier said than done, but she did have somewhat of a point. There was no purpose to his guilt; he had found someone and rescued him from the depths of the marsh. "I just wish that I found him alive," he mumbled, and she reached with muddied fingers and grabbed his cheek, making his eyes go wide in surprise. "Ow!" He sounded offended, wincing as she pinched and wiggled his cheek before letting go, his own hand rubbing where she had held him. 

"Being upset over that isn't going to make anything better. Finding him dead is better than not finding him at all, and you're the one who managed to do loosely what we came here to do. This wasn't for naught, and we got something out of it. All right? Stop beating yourself up before I do it for you." 

Markus wondered if her threat was real (and he certainly had something to be afraid of), but he found himself laughing a little. Unexpected, but it was a relief. It didn't last, but like she had said. Something was better than nothing at all. 

*** 

The car ride to Josh's house was silent, the air heavier than when they had arrived at the marsh. Markus sat in the backseat with Simon, offering the passenger to North. He selfishly wanted to be closer to Simon, and maybe it was the prickling of a crush, but he also felt at ease with the other, calmer when their fingers were intertwined. And that was exactly what he did as soon as they were buckled in, reaching over and lacing their fingers together, watching Simon's cheeks stay steadily pink the entire ride to Josh's place. The windows were down, airing out the car but also letting in the humid air, the wind doing little to cool the occupants. Josh keeping the AC off didn’t help matters. 

When they pulled into the drive, North was the first one out, groaning. "Why did you keep the AC off? It was hot as hell in there," she complained at their driver, whose head popped over the roof of the car with a look of indigence. 

"Why the hell would I have the AC on when the windows are down? That's a waste!" he responded sharply, pulling out the towel that he'd sat on to avoid getting mud on his seat. 

Markus and Simon did the same thing, though Markus took Simon's towel and draped it over his arm, feeling a little less chilled since they'd left. It almost felt normal again, as if the morning had never happened, following the bickering two as they walked to the side of the garage, Josh taking the lead. 

"All right, you know what? If you're so hot, then this might cool you off." He picked up the hose, the end of which was covered with a gardening nozzle sprayer. 

Markus immediately recognized Josh was about to squeeze the trigger and this wasn't going to end well. He sprayed a jet of water right at North, the sprayer dialled to a setting similar to a shower head, multiple streams of what he had to guess was cold or lukewarm water, based on the squeal she gave, briefly hitting her and forcing her to turn away before she turned back to him with an offended gasp. 

"Joshua Sawyers!" 

She lunged for him and he backed up, spraying her again with a big smile on his face, looking pleased with himself. Then the nozzle was turned toward the other two, and Markus was able to confirm the water was cold as it battered him and Simon, the blond gasping and immediately turning to hide behind Markus, shuddering. 

"Josh! Don't involve us in your feud!" He laughed anyway, and the laughter sounded like music to Markus's ears. 

Josh’s response was to raise the stream to their faces, and Markus turned away to avoid getting it in his eyes, tipping his head to the side to get the water out of his ears. 

"I don't want you all trailing mud inside, so stop hiding from the water!" Josh scolded them, though he mercifully directed the stream away. 

Goosebumps rose on Markus's skin, but it wasn't just from the cold. He gazed at Simon, who was still curled in to avoid the cold water, but they were close--so close their noses bumped when Simon lifted his head a bit. The water from his hair flicked and dripped rivulets down his face, eyes wide with surprise as Markus's eyelids lowered, a lazy smile rising on his lips. 

"Hi," he whispered in the small space between them, turning his head and pressing a brief, chaste kiss to Simon's cheek, movement that was almost done without thought. Almost. There was one he had, almost like it was a lesson from the morning, a lesson he idly realized after finding someone dead: life was short, and there was no reason to wait for the chance to take a leap of faith. 

Stepping away as Simon's face flooded with heat, Markus gave him a slight smile and cocked his head to the side, watching him process what he'd just done. Markus turned away to join Josh and North in spraying the hose when a pale hand clasped his. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sensation, though he turned almost expectantly, right into a pair of baby soft lips pressing into his cheek in return, the hand loosening its hold on his wrist. 

"You've gotta give me time to respond, Markus," Simon spoke in a soft tone when he drew back, blue eyes clear and standing out against his pink cheeks. He looked like the paintings romantic artists had done of angels, and Markus started to reach out to touch his face when he remembered the mud on him, and he drew back regretfully. Did he imagine the disappointment on Simon's face? 

"Let's go get hosed off, okay? I'm tired of this mud being on my skin." 

And as a substitute for what he would've done with clean hands, Markus gently took his hand and pulled him along, keeping him behind himself as they approached the other two, who were now much cleaner. Josh still held the hose, though, and that made his cousin wary. 

"What's with that face?" Josh asked. "You look like you're expecting me to do this or something," he said, spraying Markus in the face with the hose, making him jerk back with a gasp before his arms snapped out, meaning much more business than North had. He wasn't afraid to grab his cousin and wrestle the pacifist onto the slick grass, turning the hose on him and spraying wherever he could mercilessly, giving him well-deserved payback. "No!! No!! Markus, it's going up my nose--" Josh sputtered and gasped, swatting his hands away as he covered his face, rolling under him with gasps and coughs but none life rattling. 

North was beside herself with laughter, bent over with her arms around her stomach as she laughed over the much softer giggles from Simon. Giving the other a few more punishing sprays with the hose, Markus finally stood up and took the nozzle from his grasp, standing over him still as he started to hose his own hands off, watching Josh squirm and wriggle down out from under him. 

"You're an asshole," he groaned as he got up, and in response Markus sprayed him again, eliciting a small shriek. 

"Maybe if you hadn't started it, you wouldn't be in this situation now would you?" Markus responded flatly, beckoning Simon over and being noticeably more gentle as he sprayed off his hands, watching the mud and dirtied water trickle off them like a waterfall, something feeling almost reverent about the actions. 

"I call first dibs on the shower, as the person most victimized by Josh's hose. You boys can duke it out for whatever else." North waved her hand as she took off into the house, Josh bolting after her yelling about her shoes and the mud she was going to track in. 

Suddenly, being alone with Simon made Markus feel quite different. That uneasy stage of feeling affection and yet knowing it likely wasn't a good idea to act on it. It had only been two days--less than--and both of them weren't in their best emotional states; both looking for their brothers, both having witnessed a dead body. And yet maybe that was why there was some sort of pull that wouldn't be there under better circumstances. Or maybe it would? He liked Simon well enough, even without the morning's events. 

But being stuck in rumination wouldn't help, so he instead focused on gently washing off Simon's legs despite the soft noise of complaint. "You really don't need to, Markus," he started but fell silent when he knew it wasn't getting them anywhere. Instead he carefully helped Markus with getting his legs, clean hand grazing up his shin almost reverently, something that had no right feeling as hot as it did with such cold water. 

Simon moved to crouch beside Markus once his own legs were dripping clean, gently taking the hose from him. "Let me do it. As thanks." He flushed a bit, but Markus simply smiled at him and stood, letting Simon give him the same treatment. Something about this felt intimate in ways that words couldn't express, the way Simon's hand felt carefully wiping some of the sandy grit that clung to his leg, leaning in slowly as if he weren’t even thinking about it. Markus's breath shuddered when lips touched the side of his knee, smooth skin that was unfamiliar to such actions of affection, and yet it affected him all the same. 

Simon drew back and blinked, seeming to rise out of a dream and realize what he'd done once his eyes connected with Markus's. The blond's face went cherry red, and he dropped the hose, standing up bolt-straight and turning on his heel, walking stiffly to the house and leaving the outsider alone in the yard, bemused and dripping with cold water turning warm in the heat. 

Looking out with his bicolored eyes, Markus turned his head and gazed at the street, the different houses that looked thrown together and yet matched perfectly in their own way. How the people inside likely had never experienced the same things he just had, not just with shy affections from a boy but with traumatic experiences. Being alone, he had that time to think, to let everything sink in without distraction, and he could start to feel the ghost of those strands around his fingers once more, pulling him down. He sank to his knees, reaching over and turning the knob of the garden faucet with a numb hand, setting the nozzle where he'd assumed it would stay, reaching then and shoving his fingers into the hot mud under him. 

The ground was sopping wet and briny, grass and soil mixed with unfamiliar bacteria and slop, decay and wild joining with the domesticated plant life, and Markus wondered how much of this paralleled his situation. How long would the feeling of holding Elijah stay in his hands if he thought about it too much? His hand pressed deeper into the created mud, the grass sliding against his palm as he curled his fingers into a fist, holding a chunk in his hand. Curling them tighter in the way he couldn't when he was in the marsh, he found his hands were shaking. Was he afraid of whatever this feeling was? 

A chill shot down his spine, and he stiffened, letting go of the earth as if he had been caught doing something bad. He peered slightly out at the grass in front of him, gazing at a shadow that stretched above his own, someone standing behind him. Josh, maybe? 

He turned to look, but was met only with the green-stained shutters of the side of the garage, echoes of lawn clippings maybe, or some sort of slime he didn't know of. Certainly nothing that cast such a shadow. When he turned back, there was only his crouched shadow darkening the grass, mocking him almost for seeing something that wasn't there. But he felt almost certain there was someone standing above him when he'd looked the first time, the tingling on the back of his neck a testament to the sight. Swallowing hard, Markus brushed his hand off in the wet grass and stood up slowly, taking a look around to make sure no one was hiding from him or playing a joke. 

"Markus!" He startled and turned to see Josh waving at him from the small kitchen window he'd opened, brows furrowed. "What are you doing out there still? Get in here already so you can take a shower!" 

"Coming." His voice didn't falter, and yet he felt uncertain about going inside, though it wasn't because of the house itself. It was the feeling that he was leaving something outside, an odd feeling that he couldn't shake, although he needed to. 

Maybe this town was getting to him, its sensations distorting his perception of things and exposing him to something he didn't know about. All he really knew was that he was alone standing there in the yard, readying himself to walk inside and join the others again, to throw himself into the living in an attempt to get away from the dead, and that there hadn’t been anyone outside with him. He told himself that, even as he heard a second step behind his own as he went inside, treading on the grass and standing on the stoop as he opened the door, another glance showing him still that there was no one there. Opening the door, he stepped inside and hesitated one more time, looking out behind him again as if to make sure that he wasn't being followed. No one. 

And yet when Markus shut the door and started to turn away, he could almost swear that he saw long brown hair swaying and a hand rising, muddied and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the long wait was thanks to finals season. it's hard to think about the humidity when its cold as hell outside


	3. 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i gained a beta reader ( @phrensiedom on here, @phrensie on twitter ) so moving forward there it should be a lot smoother than me going at it alone. be sure to give them love!!! <3

The interview was conducted smoothly for there was nothing to hide. They didn't do anything wrong exploring the marsh, and that was made abundantly clear when their stories remained unchanged and Markus himself was very clearly out of the loop of what went on in the town. Two days wasn't a lot of time to learn about the intricacies of a town this tightly woven, after all, and Elijah's state indicated something more drawn-out than simply drowning in the marsh. They were all released from questioning in under an hour, uncertain if they should be glad to be seen as innocent or guilty that they couldn't do more--at least, Markus certainly felt the sting of guilt. He was quiet on the way to drop Simon and North off, and he remained so on the way home, thoughts running too fast for him to settle on any of them, so he settled for none. 

The night passed without comment, though Markus found himself staring up at the ceiling for a long while, watching the shapes of shadows stretch longer and longer until his eyes shut, and he slept without dreaming. 

He found he wasn't dreaming often at all in the days that followed, though he lost count of them quickly. It was one thing after another, a slow descent into summer without relief, the heat seeming to rise and fall like the tides, hovering on the verge of uncomfortable for weeks. 

The four still went out to search for Daniel, but little remained of the small town and its surrounds which they hadn't already combed through, save for a simple trail North led them down a handful of days later, when the town began to develop an undercurrent of unease. A collective bated breath, waiting for something Markus didn't know about and felt as if he shouldn't ask. 

"I knew it. You're leading us to where you kill people, aren't you?" Josh spoke up after they had been walking for a little while, when the woods got a bit thicker and it was harder to see the horizon peeking through the multitude of tree trunks and shrubbery. 

"Oh my god," was her only response, her eye-roll audible even from where Markus was trailing behind Simon. 

The blond had been acting skittish around him ever since he'd kissed his knee, and part of Markus wanted to just snatch him up then and there and tell him that there was nothing to be shy about. Instead, he picked up his pace as best as he could, strides growing longer so he could catch up, boldly grabbing his hand with no uncertainty, no coy brushes of fingers. No, Simon needed to know this was intentional, this was something he wanted. Simon's cheeks immediately burned red, fingers stiff for a long moment before softening, curling and pressing in the space between Markus'. Catching his eye, Markus gave him a slight smile before he looked ahead, feeling a little bit more  _ right _ . Even if he didn't know everything that was going on in this town, he at least knew how he felt about the boy next to him,that he could reach out and be caught in return. And that was honestly all he needed from this town - barring the whole reason he was there in the first place. 

Sometimes it was easy to forget his purpose. It was as if this town was its own island, a haven of hellish heat and inner workings cut off from the rest of the world. It was its own little sustainable society that needn’t be questioned. It didn't need to be questioned, and yet Markus wanted to anyway, an insatiable desire to eat the forbidden fruit he didn't know existed. He longed to uncover its secrets. There was no way in hell this place wasn't hiding something considering six people were missing. Not when it was this small, not with people searching almost every day for the disappeared, and not with the prolonged lack of answers. 

Finally there was a break in the foliage as they came upon a small clearing occupied by a wooden church that reminded Markus of pictures of old Salem churches, of the run down parts of Detroit, of places he knew he shouldn't go but Leo always wanted to explore. He could see why his brother would come to a town like this if it had thrills like nearby abandoned churches and decrepit buildings to offer. The allure of a small town was so prominent, romantic even.

"This really looks like where you'd hide bodies," Josh commented, and Simon made a noise of agreement as they all stared up at the old building. 

The white paint covering the sides had long since faded beneath the sun and greenery, wood likely rotten under it all from years of neglect and weather. Weeds outlined the foundation, the steps up to the church crumpled and hidden under the shoots tangled stubbornly to hide the stones beneath. The covered steps seemed to preserve the holy ground within from the wayward soul who would likely try to squat in there, or the teenagers who could do god-knows-what inside. The roof seemed as if it were caving in slowly, a gaping hole baring the inside to the heavens above. Shuttered windows were placed on either side of the door and likely lined the sides of the church, stained brown and green, a mixture that struck some chord in Markus to which he couldn't put a name. 

"Shut the hell up, Josh. There's a window in the back we can get in, but there's also a shed back there someone might be hiding in," North said as she took off around the side of the church, leaving the three boys to hurry after her. 

The three large windows were similarly stained, but the one furthest from the front was distinctly different. Gone was the board hiding the innards, the glass broken out, with a tree log leaning up against the building, jutting from the weeds like a beacon to the adventurous soul. 

North lingered by the edge of the building, peering into a squat shack that seemed to be extra storage away from the church itself, the inside deeper below the ground for reasons unknown. Maybe it was a bomb shelter, although the door seemed long knocked off its hinges to leave a beckoning open hole. 

"Markus, come with me," she said, waving her hand when he was close enough, causing him to pause as he debated letting go of Simon's hand just to potentially get stabbed. 

"Are you gonna kill me in there?" he asked, and Josh burst into loud laughter as she whipped around and glared at him, lifting her arm somewhat dramatically, and grabbed his arm, hauling him over and forcing him to let go of Simon's hand lest he drag the other along. 

"You can hold Simon's hand later, just get your shapely ass in there with me. We're checking for hobos, just in case someone wants to come out and jump us." 

"Wait, you think my ass is shapely?" 

North glared at him again as he smiled innocently, following along as she hauled him over to the opening and dragged him inside with her. The ceiling was low, forcing him to crouch and study the room below as North squirmed her way under through the gap, landing deftly on her feet. It was open space, graffiti dotting the inside, the floor strewn liberally with debris; empty cans, remains of small fires, wood fragments of varying sizes, concrete bits, and a few other items Markus struggled to identify. Toys, maybe? They were small round objects, like the balls one could get from grocery store gacha machines, tidy and tucked into small capsules. 

Moving, he grunted as he lowered himself down, joining North in the surprisingly spacious underground bunker, tilting his head to the side as she disappeared around a corner, a small half-wall jutting out and catching him off guard. Carefully stepping around it, he gazed down the short hallway that led to nowhere, watching North pat the wall before turning back to him with a definitive nod. 

"Looks like we're the only ones here," she said, heading back out to the entrance once more. He had no idea how on earth patting the wall contributed to that knowledge, but he wasn’t about to question it. 

He followed obediently, matching her pace as she jumped to grab the ledge and push herself out, climbing deftly and standing in the shed once more, looking out at the space above where they had been. Markus moved to follow after her, setting his hands on the elevated ground and pushing up, using a foot on the wall to help him keep balance and rise up. When his waist was level with the floor, something like a hand wrapped around his leg and  _ yanked _ , causing him to cry out in surprise as he scrambled, falling forwards and sliding back, the rocks and rubble covering the ground stinging his arms. Kicking back at the air, he used the adrenaline to pull himself up and roll onto his back, scooting away and staring incredulously at the empty room. 

"Markus?!" North stood just outside the empty doorway, her expression the perfect picture of surprise. "What was that? Did you get hurt?" she asked as she hopped down and held out her hand. She helped him stand again as he gave a full body shudder, backing out of the shed. 

"I don't know," he said shakily, holding his hands up as if to keep whatever it was away from him, "it's like something grabbed my leg. I'm not - I'm not fuckin' with that." He turned away and hurried to where Josh and Simon were, having no desire to be anywhere near the shed.

The two were by the window, Josh crouched and holding the log steady as Simon balanced on the sill of the window, but when the image registered it caused Markus to stop in his tracks, heart fluttering still but this time for a different reason. 

The expanse of Simon's back was completely bare, showing every muscle in his shoulders, every bump of his spine, every freckle and mark on his pale skin. His shirt covered the sill beneath his hands and foot, covering what Markus had to guess was glass that hadn't been removed. 

"Is it still poking you?" Josh asked, looking from Simon to Markus as the latter drew closer, North following him. 

"A bit, but I don't think it's quite as bad as before. I'm not too certain about the top though, especially with your height," Simon responded, bringing his other leg up to allow him to essentially crouch on the cloth covered windowsill, sitting for a moment before he hopped down and turned to face them. He blinked at the addition of Markus and North and promptly turned cherry red, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, hey. Didn't hear you guys come over." 

"You didn't hear Markus scream?" North asked, a jab at Markus which he quickly responded with an expression of mild outrage. 

"I didn't scream! Stop, stop, go away," he waved her off with a motion of his whole arm, treading closer to the open sill and the log that Josh still held. 

"We didn't hear anything, but what happened?" Josh asked, patting the top of the log before he looked up at the window, studying the upper part of the busted out frame. A small corner of glass remained, just as stained as the rest of the glass on the other windows. 

"Nothing, I..." He felt a little silly now that he thought about it; how could he say that he thought someone literally pulled his leg? But the feeling of a hand was so  _ real _ , he had half a mind to pull up his pant leg to check to see if it left a mark in its wake. Refraining from doing so, he cleared his throat and mumbled, "I just slipped, that's all." 

Immediately Josh snorted, Simon only tipping his head slightly to the side while North started laughing. Rolling his eyes at the response two of the three gave him, he planted his foot atop the log, pushing up and taking only a brief step onto the corner of the sill not covered by Simon's shirt. His other leg swung neatly over the fabric, and he hopped down, landing beside Simon. Unable to resist brushing his hand over the other's bare arm as he entered, he watched the blond’s cheeks flush dark again. However, this time he could see a dusting of rose trickle into his neck and shoulders. Curious, he leaned over to look and tilted his head to the side, a teasing smile rising on his lips.

"Are you hot?" he asked, knowing damn well it wasn't the heat making the other react. 

Simon started to answer when North's hand pushed on Markus's shoulder, distracting both boys. 

"Will you stop flirting and move!? I will bodyslam you if you don't get out of my way." 

Holding up his hands, Markus stepped back and turned away, giving Simon a wink as he did before starting to explore the platform-like surface they were on. This had to be the stage, a sad looking table in the middle with a rusted book holder nestled neatly atop it, likely worn into the wood by this point. There was a broken closet door across from the windows, which Markus carefully walked his way over toward as he heard North start to clamor inside with much less finesse than he’d expect of her. 

When he glanced back, he noticed she sat paused on the sill, hands framing a spot of blood on her shin as she gave a hiss of pain.

"North?" Markus walked back as quickly as he could on rotted floor boards, trying to avoid adding to the injuries they were all apparently hellbent on acquiring. "What happened?" 

"The log came out from under my foot and I fell," she grumbled, seeming hesitant about sitting on the sill but also not wanting to move. Markus paused for a moment before he grabbed the back collar of his own shirt, pulling it over his head and popping it off. Folding the sleeves carefully, he moved and added his shirt to the cushioning of the sill, his motions deliberate as to not unintentionally touch North's ass, definitely knowing she would say something. 

"...Thanks," North mumbled, very obviously averting her gaze to the outside where Josh crouched over the small bag he’d brought along. 

"And you were making fun of me for bringing this.  _ Over-prepared, _ my ass. Look at you now, needing my first aid kit. Markus why is your shirt off?" Josh spoke as he stood, pausing to stare incredulously at his cousin, who smiled back innocently. 

"I was helping with the cushioning. And I didn't want Simon to be the only one without a top. I'm doing a community service," he responded, setting his hands on his hips as he glanced at the blond, extremely interested in seeing what reaction he'd have. 

As expected, Simon's face was flushed bright red as he gazed wide eyed at the other, covering his mouth and then his entire face when he seemed to realize he was caught staring. His neck had also grown redder, the shells of his ears the same hue--as Markus suspected, Simon was practically a full-body blusher. 

"You're getting on my nerves," North scolded, and Markus laughed in response as he turned away again, heading back to the closet he wanted to look at. 

He heard her complaining, a string of ' _ ow ow ow _ ' as he guessed Josh disinfected the cut. The sill was likely crawling with bacteria and god knows what else, so it definitely seemed like a good idea. Shuddering at the thought of potential infection, he shook his head to wave it off as he reached the closet door. It sat leaning against the frame, hinges disconnected, allowing Markus to grasp it without resistance. Dragging it off to the side, he peered into the darkness within. It appeared shallow, but when he leaned in deeper he saw a short hallway, possibly for storage. The scent of old books and mold hung in the still air, something red catching his attention. Inching a bit further in, he reached and patted the object, realizing it was a book cover. Splaying his hand over it, he grasped and tugged, but the book stuck fast to the shelf it rested upon - likely thanks to moisture and age. 

"Damn," he muttered, reaching his other hand in and rubbing his fingers along the binding, prying it from the shelf it perched upon. After a few long moments, he finally succeeded in lifting it from where it had been, taking hold and retreating back to get into the light again to look at it. Dirt clung to the front, dotting and hiding golden lettering that embroidered the burgundy cover. Opening it, he realized that it was a bible with more than half of the pages ripped out, the remaining highlighted and scribbled on. The fall of Lucifer, the murder of Abel and the punishment following, and the crucifixion of Jesus were among the stories and verses left within. A shiver shot down Markus's spine as he touched one of the highlighted sentences, color vibrant. He never realized highlighters lasted so long on paper. 

" _ My punishment is more than I can bear. Today you are driving me from the land, and I will be hidden from your presence; I will be a restless wanderer on the earth, and whoever finds me will kill me _ ," he read quietly, and then felt another shiver. Flipping the book shut, he turned back to the window and noticed that Josh was straightening himself from apparently falling in, his clothes more than a little rumpled. Crossing to return to their sides, he kept the book in his hand, unwilling to part with it. Could this be considered stealing? Oops. 

"What'd you find there?" North asked when she noticed his approach, and he held it up to show it off in response. 

"A bible with a bunch of pages ripped out. It's kind of creepy, but I'm thinking of keeping it." 

"What?" Josh gave him another incredulous stare. "Are you serious? You're really about to pull a horror movie move? Nobody takes the creepy ominous book home!" Markus slapped his own forehead, dragging his hand down his face while North rolled her eyes and huffed loudly, laughing afterward. 

"That sort of solidifies the fact that I'm taking this," Markus waved the book a bit before he set it on the altar, heading down the rotten steps to the main section of the sanctuary. 

The carpet was completely ruined, dirt and debris covering almost every square inch and the dampness from years of weather allowing mold to take over. He couldn't tell what the original color was supposed to be, not with the way it looked as he picked his way over the debris to start poking around, curious about all of the wooden slats. 

Simon was already down there, having climbed over one of the haphazardly shoved pews in order to get to the front door, prodding at whatever kept it glued shut. 

"Si, you're going to get your hands all dirty if you keep touching it," Markus said as he approached the pew, a little hesitant to climb over it. 

"I can't even tell what it is," Simon responded, stepping back and shaking his head before he turned to make his way over the pew again. 

As he stepped over the back of it, the wood gave out with a sharp crack and Simon stumbled, slipping off the moisture soaked cushioning laid over the bench. Markus immediately moved, snapping his arms out and catching Simon before he could get hurt falling onto the wood pieces and myriad of other unknown bits strewn across the floor. Wrapping him in his arms securely, he felt Simon's hands curl into his back as he was caught, using Markus's support to help him get his footing again and straighten up. 

The blond was warm in his arms, his skin softer than he was expecting. He couldn't help but splay his hand over his lower back, the other hand laying on his bicep and helping him straighten up. The skin under his hands heated, Simon's nails digging into his skin and making Markus inhale sharply at the feeling. It made a certain heat light up the nerves in his back, an excitement he immediately worked to quell, looking over the other. 

"Are you okay?" Markus asked in a quiet tone, and Simon could only nod as he kept his gaze level with Markus's chest, the tips of his ears red again. Unable to help leaning over, he gently bumped his head against Simon's before straightening, skimming his hand down his bicep before feeling ready enough to let him go, as much as he didn't want to. 

Simon's hands moved, nails letting up as his fingers settled over Markus's shoulder, and then finally dropped as he stepped away, looking like he wanted to hide but instead just turned away, obscuring his red face. Markus found it cute, a slight smile rising on his lips once more before he turned to look at some of the slats near them, barring any path to the windows. Stacked to lean against each other and the pews, it was easy to tug some of the boards out to look at what was on them. Markus found eyes spray painted on the light wood, covering almost every inch of open space. 

"Whoa." He marveled at it for a moment before setting it back where he'd gotten it. He glanced back toward where they entered to see North struggling to pull out another slat, while Josh remained at the platform close to the window. 

Going to North's side, Markus helped her tug it free and chuckled at the graffiti, nothing distinct whatsoever on it. Jumbles of words and white space, not catching either of their interest. As Markus pushed it back, he heard Simon pulling out another slat and gasping, startled, and drawing everyone's attention. Turning it to let the others see, what looked like a demonic summoning circle was lovingly cast upon the wood, drawn with some sort of brownish paint that seemed to skip out and poorly connect the circle all the way around. The sigils, however, were much more clear, precise and completed. 

Markus felt a chill go through him despite the still heat between the four walls, and he immediately wanted Simon to put it back. 

Josh spoke before he could, sounding concerned. "Simon, I think you should put that back and we should get out of here." 

"Are you really scared of something like this? It's clearly fake." North knocked on the slat and dragged her finger over the paint, watching some of it flake away. 

Markus felt another chill, and yet he moved closer as well, reaching out and touching a particularly globular portion of one of the sigils, leaning in to sniff the board. It was distinct: cutting through the oaky scent of the board itself, there was an unmistakable shock of iron that sent Markus recoiling back, shaking his head. 

"Simon, put it down. I'm so serious, you need to put it down now." Half of him wanted to grab it and chuck it as far from them as possible, his fingers itching to grab the grainy wood. 

Simon immediately tossed it over the other slats, putting his hands up afterward as North turned to Markus with an annoyed expression. 

"What the hell? What was that about?" 

Markus gave another shiver, and he backed up, moving to go back to the altar. "I thought it was paint on that board but it's not, that wasn't paint," he shook his head again, stepping up on the stairs and feeling the wood give way under his foot. Punching a hole in the stairs, he groaned in disbelief, working to tug his foot out. 

"What do you mean that wasn't paint?" North followed him over, reaching down and wrapping both hands around his knee and lower thigh before giving a good yank that almost sent him sprawling back. Instead of falling though, he bumped into a form and turned his head to see Simon, the other's hands taking hold of his shoulders to keep him balanced. "And why are you so damn accident prone, anyway? You take more spills than a carton of milk," North huffed, bypassing the now useless steps and hopping up onto the platform instead. 

"This town's out to get me," Markus found himself saying. He blinked and turned his head to take his eyes off Simon, clearing his throat and straightening before moving to the platform and hopping up the same way North did. Unlike her though, he turned and held his hands out to help Simon up, who smiled at him sweetly and took the offer, grasping his hand and hauling himself up with a foot planted on the edge of it. 

Markus gave his warm hand a squeeze before letting go so they could leave the church in peace. Making a point to grab the half bible, he strode to the window and wasted no time in stepping on his own shirt to get out of there, kicking the log out of the way before he landed on the ground. Crouching to avoid sending all his weight to his ankles, he grunted and stood to step out of the way for whoever was next, turning around to see the others paused at the window. 

"What?" he asked, dipping to sit on the ground again so he could take a moment to check his leg for any cuts or injury from the stairs breaking. 

"It's just weird to see you getting out of here like a bat outta hell," Josh said, running his hands over the small stack of shirts before he moved to climb out, which Markus took as an excuse to look away again as he rolled up his pant leg. 

There was a small scratch across his ankle, but there was a curious splotch peeking from under the hem that had him pulling the leg up higher. He froze when he saw deep bruising on the side of his leg, purple and red ringed as if a nebula bloomed on his leg without his permission, taking the distinct shape of fingers. Where the fingertips would have been were the deepest, evening out into strips that pooled together in what he had to guess was the palm, the meat of the thumb and heel creating another deep smattering of color. 

"Holy shit, Markus!" Josh dropped down from the window and crouched in front of him, lightly framing his bruised shin with a feather soft touch. "Who did this to you? When'd you get this?" 

Hesitant to answer, Markus sat back on his hands and considered his words carefully to avoid sounding like he was making things up. "When North and I were leaving the shack, while I was climbing out of the lower part, I felt like something grabbed my leg. I’d only said that I slipped, but..." He couldn't take his eyes off his bruises, and for some reason his mind wandered to thinking of Elijah again. But he wouldn't be able to pull on Markus like that, and a small part of him chastised himself for thinking about a dead person in that way. 

Two soft thumps followed before North and Simon joined the cousins, Simon trailing behind with both shirts over his arm and patting the thin layer of dirt from the fabric. 

"Holy shit." North practically went starry-eyed with interest, dropping down and immediately poking one of the darker spots as she said, "Does this hurt?" 

Markus yelped in response, jerking his leg away with an offended grunt as he gave her a betrayed look, starting to roll his pant leg back down to hide the ugly mottled look to his skin. Giving a shudder, Markus watched Josh's concerned gaze linger on his covered leg before the other rose to his feet, offering a hand to him. Taking it gratefully, Markus stood and put his arms up for a stretch, wincing at the feeling of setting mild pressure on the bruises. 

The group started back through where they came, the excursion out technically a failure, though it didn't feel like one. Markus held onto the half-Bible and walked alongside a still shirtless Simon, enjoying the bit of eye candy he was allowed as they trailed back to Josh’s car. The sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling bare pale skin and consuming Markus’s thoughts all the way home. 

***

For the rest of the day, Markus found he couldn't stop looking at the bible, the torn pages curious but what was left even more so. There was a theme of punishment, of succumbing to human nature and the results from it, and the sense of being helpless in whatever struggle there was. The highlighting outlined such thoughts, the scribbles hard to decipher but mentioning women and fire more times than he could count. 

Reading it as he lay on the couch, he half listened to a conversation between his usual companions, completely unable to discern a topic as he flipped through the old pages, nose wrinkling at the musty scent expelled from time to time. Every mention of demons or a sacrifice were brutally circled, the mentions so few and far between that the intensity of the markings was noticeable. Rubbing the top of his head absently, he sighed as he read through verses in older prose than he was entirely comfortable reading; even Shakespeare couldn't compare to how confusing the sentences were. 

His attention on translating the old sentences was broken when someone sat on the floor beside the couch, and he turned his head to meet Simon's gaze. 

"Hey," Markus greeted in muted surprise, immediately flipping the book shut and starting to sit up. "Do you want to sit with me?" he asked, and Simon quickly shook his head and set a hand on his still-bare chest, stopping him from sitting up any more. Lowering back into his reclined position, he set the book on his chest and gazed at Simon with a pleasant expression, a smile playing on his lips once more. 

"I've been meaning to ask you about your tattoos," Simon said after a moment, his pale finger beginning to slowly trace over one of the patterned bands on Markus's bicep. Glancing at his own inked skin for a moment, Markushuffed a laugh and laid his head back, turning it slightly to be able to keep looking at the blond next to him. 

"Yeah? They're like the ones my dad has. I liked the watercolor look, and I  _ loved _ his. When I was younger I used to make Leo draw on my arms since he could replicate patterns way better than I could," he mused, turning his arm to let Simon continue tracing down. Lines, swirls, splashes of color that stood out starkly against his dark skin, it wasn't a surprise that they would attract attention and questions. "He doesn't have any flowers like I do on this side, though," he lifted his other arm to show the bouquet that covered the entirety of his bicep, some stems reaching below his elbow. 

"Do the flowers mean anything?" Simon asked in quiet amazement, reaching out and tracing some of the petals on Markus's inner arm, sending tingles shooting down his spine and warmth into his chest. 

"They mean that I'm cool." He grinned, and Simon burst into laughter in return, giving his arm a small shove. 

"You know what I meant! Do the flowers mean anything in the flower language or birth months, or whatever," he huffed in what Markus guessed was playful annoyance, watching those petal pink lips lift in a barely suppressed smile. He wondered how they tasted, finding himself subconsciously leaning forward a bit before catching himself and those thoughts, biting his lower lip as an excuse to take a moment to think. 

"Not really. When I got them I just got ones that I thought were interesting. I've always liked odd flowers, so there's some gloxinia, couple of poppies, viscaria, camellia, and some anemone." He listed the flowers as he pointed to them, pausing after a moment. "There's a rose in here somewhere, and a carnation. It's mostly a lot of random ones strewn together, I've never looked up the meaning of them," Markus finished as he lowered his arm, not missing the momentary look of disappointment that flicked across the other’s face. Moving the arm closer to Simon, he lazily slung it over his shoulders, pulling him in a bit and bumping their heads together briefly and then letting up. 

"They're interesting either way," Simon responded quietly, looking torn for a handful of moments before he slowly leaned and rested his head on the side of the couch, blond locks tickling Markus's side. Smiling at the feeling, Markus did his very best to stay still so that he didn’t disturb him, enjoying the quiet moment that left affection brewing warm in his stomach. 

"Simon, do you know if you guys are staying over? North won't stop making jokes about sleeping with me." Josh directed his question toward Simon, his voice alone enough to break Markus's spell of lazy existence. The two looked up at him from where they were on the couch, Markus rolling over to lie on his stomach to more easily see him leaning against the counter. 

"I don't think we're able to since Dad's had a real itch for us to stay home lately. It's enough that we get to stay over here as much as we do, in his eyes," Simon responded as he lifted his head, sitting up straighter. "We probably should get going soon before he starts blowing up our phones," he added after shifting a bit and pulling out his cell, showing the five texts already sitting on the lockscreen. 

Markus felt his own sting of disappointment at the fact that Simon was leaving, watching him stand and take his folded shirt from the dining room table, pulling it on and brushing off the small patch of wood chips that remained from their trip to the church. North made her own annoyed noise as she hopped down from the counter she'd been sitting on near Josh, almost knocking into him, likely on purpose. 

"One day we're gonna get out of there," she made a fist of determination, one that had Markus raising his brows as Simon merely smiled at her. There was a note of melancholy in that smile, as if he were merely entertaining her thoughts in the same way one listened to a child ramble about fantasies. 

"Bike safely, especially since you cut your shin on the window," Josh said in lieu of a goodbye, pointing to North's bandaged calf as she and Simon started pulling their shoes on. 

"You got it, Mommy. I'll text you when we're back," she waved him off, causing Josh to roll his eyes. 

Once they left, Markus sat up properly and stared at his cousin, waiting for the other to notice his gaze--which didn't take very long at all, Josh squirming a little under the intensity.

"What are you staring at me like that for?" he asked, to which Markus climbed off the couch and walked to join him in the kitchen, arms folded and bible forgotten on the coffee table. 

"I didn't want to ask this while they were still there, but why don't they just move out, or set their own rules? You... _ are _ all adults, right?" The thought to ask didn't really occur to Markus, but he realized he probably should know if he was hanging out with a bunch of teenagers, the thought of being the oldest mildly terrifying. "Please don't make me be the only adult in this situation, I'm begging you." 

Josh huffed in partial amusement, shaking his head before answering. "I told you this is a small town. We don't have apartments, townhouses, any of those fancy city things. And the only ways to get property here are to build it yourself or wait 'til someone dies. But there's no real  _ escaping _ from the church, I don't think." 

That made Markus even more curious, staring at the other as if to tell him to continue. Josh made a face in response before rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, we're all just starting college, and it's all online. We can't get out of here, and there's no way that their dad nor anyone else would let us just move on outside town limits, and...I don't know. There's some obligation to staying here. Don't you get that?" 

Markus cocked his head to the side, brows furrowed. Starting college, yet not leaving? The excuses seemed cheap, childish even. What did that mean, they couldn't leave? Wouldn't leave? 

"Hasn't anyone tried leaving?" he asked, and Josh shrugged and nodded. 

"Yeah, kind of. People will start talking about it, moving away from here and getting out, but then after a week they've put it out of their mind and it's not brought up ever again." 

"I see..." Markus must've given something away in his expression, asJosh reached out and took his shoulders, palms heated against his bare skin. 

"Markus, whatever you're thinking of doing, don't. People don't leave. I don't know why, but it's always been this way, and lord knows someone's tried to get out. But they can't, and you're not going to be any different." 

Raising his hands, Markus shook his head and put on a pleasant expression, though the warnings were sending shivers down his spine and making him itchy to run. What would they do, hunt him down? Kill him for trying to leave? Brainwash? It all felt very horror movie-esque, and part of him wasn't surprised that Leo might've been tangled up in something like this. Or maybe he got out somehow without leaving a trace, if that were even possible. Either way, he set his hands on Josh's shoulders in return and flashed a half smile, squeezing him. 

"I'm not going to do anything. Don't worry about me, all right?" 

Josh did not look like he believed him, but ultimately said nothing. After all, what could he even respond with? What could he do? 

Once a plan was in motion, there was nothing anyone could do about it in the end. 

*** 

The night offered no relief from the humidity. In fact it almost seemed worse, in a way--though wearing his jacket and jeans again likely contributed--helmet covering his head once more. The darkness was alive with the sound of screaming bugs, cricket chirps and cicada cries, loud enough that Markus thought it would drown out the noise of his motorcycle. Being careful not to throw up the garage door with the same violence North usually did, he let it sit at half mast as he ducked under it, finding his way in the dim lighting through to his bike. 

Resting his hands on the handles as he nudged the kickstand with his heel, a movement caught his attention, though he hesitated to turn to see it. At this point, he was starting to learn that whenever there was a glimpse of something in his peripherals, it wasn't going to be anything good. But he couldn't help but take a peek, almost dropping the bike when he saw a figure standing by the door. Squinting, he couldn't make out anything distinct save for the outline of what he had to guess was a male, long hair that might've been brown. 

"Elijah?" Markus found himself asking, calling out, even. 

In response, the figure simply tilted its head to the side before it was gone in the blink of an eye, setting Markus on edge. Usually in horror movies, he'd turn back around and the other would be right behind him, in his face. 

"Nope." So he wasn't going to, instead starting to carefully walk backward with the bike up until there was a sharp tug on it, forcing him to turn almost instinctively. There was only empty air, though Markus certainly didn't feel alone anymore. 

Shaking it off, he guided the bike out of the garage, ducking down and squeezing out with it, dropping the kickstand once he was completely out. Turning back, he quickly pushed the door down as if he could lock whatever it was he'd seen inside there, returning to his bike's side once more. Swinging his leg over as he'd done a thousand times before, he turned the ignition and felt the vehicle roar to life, mixing with the sound of the southern night. 

Neatly swinging his leg back and forcing up the kickstand once more, he took off into the night, the breeze filtering through his helmet as he rode on the empty streets. He gazed at the church as he passed it, the blond sneaking into his thoughts as he continued down the road, starting to come upon the dilapidated buildings of the outskirts. He wondered if Simon was sleeping, what the boy dreamed about. 

(Indulgently, Markus wondered if Simon dreamed about him.) 

Unable to help his smile, he gave a soft chuckle and made a note to himself to ask Simon about his dreams when he came back. After all, he wasn't planning to leave forever, just for a day to see what would happen to him, if the warnings Josh had given him were true. He felt just fine as he rode out, glancing at the empty landscape. There really was nothing on these roads to look at; fields were flat and trees were tall, what else was new? He rode past them all the same, not a soul in sight as he went farther and farther away from whence he came. 

He didn't know how long he travelled the flat lands. Everything looked the same, and it could've been an hour or two before a motel came in sight. Pulling into the lot, he cut the engine and put down the kickstand to let it lean as he pulled his helmet off, holding it under his arm. Directing his attention out at the rest of the lot, he noted there were few cars around, enough to count on one hand. Was this place so unpopular, or just so off the grid? 

Figuring he'd find out eventually, he walked into the main office's building. Immediately he was stopped in his tracks by a scent he couldn't place, though his first thought went to the church he had visited earlier that day. Old, musty, it wasn't a surprise anymore why people didn't come inside if all of the motel rooms would smell like this. Shaking it off, he approached the empty desk and paused, biting his lower lip as he glanced around behind the desk. A cushioned rolling chair and a rotary phone were the only two items visible from where he stood, but there was an entryway into some sort of back room, likely where everything important was. 

The office as a whole was nothing to look at--no waiting area to speak of, yellowed walls and a red carpet that looked like it was brought straight from the 1970s.

There was some sort of landscape painting on the wall, but before Markus could look too deeply into it a voice piped up from behind the desk unexpectedly. 

"Did you just arrive?" 

Biting back the urge to scream, Markus looked again to see an older woman standing behind the desk as if she had always been there, and for some reason he thought of her as  _ soft _ . Her curls were tied back low, brown eyes warm as if he were an expected friend and not some stranger. 

"Ah, yeah. I was hoping to find a place to stay for the night. What's your rate?" he asked, sliding his hand into the depths of his jeans' pocket to retrieve his wallet, hoping she'd supply him with the cost. 

"It's a $20 flat rate, but you can pay for the length of your stay in the morning," she responded, and Markus swung back to wondering why it wasn't more popular with such a woman running it. Matronly and trustworthy, he couldn't help but think of Lucy as he fished out a $20 bill and handed it over without fuss. 

She took the bill and disappeared briefly into the back, returning in a beat with a key that she held out to him. When he reached to take it, she clasped his hand and held fast, forcing him to stay close. "There's a shower in the bathroom, if you need to cool off. You've been in that small town, haven't you?" she asked, and he felt something seize his chest. 

"How-How did you know? I have been, I just..." he stammered but found he couldn't continue his sentence, not when her gaze drifted from his face to something just over his shoulder. Once more he felt as if he were in a horror movie, which was exactly why he didn't turn around to see what she was looking at. 

"You should be careful, Markus. Things aren't always as they seem." 

He swallowed hard when she let go of his hand, retracting his arm and nodding to her. 

"So I've heard. Um, thank you for the room. I'll see you tomorrow morning." He seemed unsure as he stepped back before turning to the door, the small space between seemed like miles across. As he turned the handle, he noticed a small stain in the carpet that hadn't been there before, and when he focused on it he noticed that it was in the shape of two footprints. Two muddy, damp footprints. 

Through the roar of his heartbeat in his ears, as he opened the door to get the hell out of there, he dimly heard the woman's voice one last time. "Will you?"

He didn't stay to respond, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him, finding that his hands were shaking as his cheeks grew flushed. 

Thoroughly unnerved, he checked the number on his key and looked out again, finding the corresponding room. "Six, six..." he repeated under his breath as he set the helmet on the seat of his bike, wheeling it over to park in front of the sidewalk. "Six." He nodded when he saw the number on the door, finding he wanted to walk just a little faster to get into the room and out of the open, though he wondered if he was just scaring himself. 

Jamming the key in and twisting the lock anyway, he pulled the door open and made sure to tug the key back out before he went inside, locking the door again after it shut firmly behind him. Patting the wall beside the door, groping fingers found the switch and he flicked the light on, blinking as he adjusted to the light. 

The walls were an off-white, a yellowish glow cast from the lamp planted between the two beds done up with quilts and brown throw pillows. The bedside table held a digital clock next to the base of the lamp, red numbers displaying the time as 12:11 AM, and a cream colored rotary phone. 

Against the wall parallel hung the TV, the only modern looking item in the old-fashioned room. The flat screen was bolted to the wall, the dresser beneath it devoid of any sort of decoration or objects that would distract from it. At the other end of the room from the door were stained wood panels, hiding what had to be the bathroom and the mini kitchenette, standing out against the white walls. The carpet was a faded dark green, and Markus hated to think all of the stories embedded within the fibers under his feet, coming to terms with the fact he would probably have to walk across it in the morning when he took his shower. He was always a morning shower sort of person, and this odd night wouldn't be any different. 

Dropping himself onto the end of one of the beds, he untied his boots and shed his heavy jacket, toeing off his boots to leave them on the floor and tossing the jacket onto the other bed. It was cool in the room, and for the first time in weeks Markus didn't feel as if he were swimming through the air, the lack of humidity making it easier to breathe. Taking a moment to appreciate it as he sat there, his eyes shut and he again felt his thoughts drifting to a certain boy. 

Sighing, he slid out of his jeans and folded them neatly, tossing them onto the other bed as well before he peeled the covers back enough to expose the red, puffy pillows. Wrapping his arms around the throw pillow he had originally shoved to the side, he lay above the covers as he curled up on his side, facing the windows. He found himself exhausted from the day's events, a dull ache in his leg reminding him of what made him so tired. Adrenaline was so draining when everything was said and done, and he felt a sense of relief when he shut his heavy eyes. 

He always took a few moments to fall asleep, but as he hovered on the cusp of rest, he felt the bed dip in front of him as if someone else were lying with him, though he knew the door was locked. Refusing to open his eyes, he found his fingers were tingling, itching, and so he slowly slid his hand across the bed until he touched something that felt damp, and all at once he knew who was lying there with him. 

And when he realized who was there, he remembered the main office, and he felt fear like ice stiffen his fingers. The woman’s warning before he saw the footprints--he finally realized what should have terrified him before--how did she know his name? 

Curling his fingers into thin, damp fabric that he assumed was supposed to be a shirt, he kept his eyes shut and simply held onto the other person, trying to commit the feeling of the shirt to memory. It was real, wasn’t it? 

“G’night,” he found himself slurring, lips barely moving against the pillow as he toppled over the teasing edge of sleep, free falling into the dark and letting it wrap around him like an old friend. 

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on twitter! @hheatwaves


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